The End of All Things
by jenna51980
Summary: AU 'No Fate' sequel: Fresh from their journey to the future, Leo and the Charmed Ones seek to ensure that they have changed Wyatt's and Chris' destinies. Meanwhile, in the future, Chris can't understand why fate hasn't changed
1. Default Chapter

**Thanks to chattypandagurl for letting me know about the site's requirement about not posting A/N's separately! **

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

As usual, I can never seem to keep my babbles to actual short 'notes'. All the usual formalities are taken care of here. I've also included a short teaser for those of you who wish to scroll immediately to the start of the story. Think of it as the prologue. Chapter 1 should be posted shortly so you don't feel too chipped.

**A. Summary**

A/U _No Fate_ Story #3: Fresh from their journey to the future, Leo and the Charmed Ones seek to ensure that they have, indeed, changed Wyatt's and Chris' destinies. Meanwhile, in the future, Chris can't understand why fate hasn't changed. If you haven't read _No Fate_ this story may not make sense.

**B. Characters**

Main Characters: Chris, Piper, Phoebe, Paige, Leo and Les, as glimpsed from my _No Fate_ universe.

Secondary characters: Other characters from my stories such as Darryl, DJ, Michael, Ben, Zach, etc may make an appearance as well. However, their roles are fairly minor so I don't think it really matters all that much.

**C. Story Rating & Other Particulars**

Rating: R, as I'd like to continue in the vein of using strong language, the concept of war and violence, etc, so consider yourselves forewarned.

Genre: No freaking idea! Err…Action/Adventure/Angst? No…I know! Sci-fi. Or…Fantasy. Yeah…Fantasy. Oh screw it. Let's just agree that it's a Charmed fanfic, okay?

Formatting: Telepathic thoughts will be bracketed by colons and in italics - _:for example:_

All other formatting (e.g. emphasis, etc) will just be italicised.

**D. A Note About Updating**

I will update as quickly as possible; however, that being said, I have always liked longer chapters with fewer updates rather than shorter chapters with frequent updates.

**E. What about a continuation of _Providence_?**

A couple of people have asked about another Chris and Bianca story, picking up where Providence ended. I promise to think about it. I think it will depend if I can think of a good storyline and whether there is an audience out there for it.

**F. Special Note for _Redundant _readers… **

This story was originally posted in the fall of 2004 under the title, _Redundant_. At the time, I remember writing the last chapter or so in a haze of writer's block and, giving up, ended it rather abruptly.

After much thought and consideration of the feedback I received, and my own rather ambivalent feelings about this story, I decided that I would revisit this story in hopes of creating a better product. However, I quickly realized that the concept of time looping was too much for my feeble mind to grasp and the resulting revision began to take a life of its own.

So what does this mean? Well, I know some people liked the idea of fate repeating itself and hoped that I would do a 'sequel' to _Redundant_ but, as much as I tried, it doesn't seem to take. I ended up re-thinking the story completely and while the first couple of chapters will take elements from the original version, the storyline will quickly detour to resemble something more along the vein of _Providence_.

**This story assumes that the original version of Redundant never happened. **

I mentioned in the first version of _Redundant_ that the story pretty much picks up from where _No Fate_ left off. The same still holds true here. I mentioned at the end of _Providence_ that I wasn't sure which storylines will stay and which will change. I had a really hard time cutting stuff out but finally decided to be brutal about it. Hopefully the change in direction will be worth it.

I know some of you will still prefer the original version. If that is the case and you still would like the original version available to you on fanfiction(dot)net, leave me a note in the review section. If there appears to be enough of you, I'll post the original version back up again as an alternative take. All I ask is you read the revision before you let me know.

And to illustrate just how much I think the change in direction will be, I've decided to rename the fic – The End of All Things is the current working title, though that may change as the story progresses.

Thanks to everyone (you know who you are!) who has been following the progress of the _No Fate_ universe.

Okay, I think that FINALLY takes care of everything,

Allons-y!

Jenna

**

* * *

**

The End of All Things

Prologue

_With the defeat of Wyatt Halliwell and his demons, it appeared that mankind had weathered what was thought, at the time, their darkest hour. The battle for survival, where pain, misery and death had once ruled supreme was now to be relegated to the history books. The time had come for a new future, one filled with hope, joy and peace. How were we to know it was merely the calm before the storm?_

– Chronicles of The Charmed Ones, Vol. CCXXX

* * *

_Somewhere in New York State, circa 2027…_

Using his hand to shade his eyes as he squinted into the direction of the crane operator, DJ gestured, giving the man the okay. Sweat poured down his face, the hot sun pounding down from above, the dry heat of the desert making the air thick and uncomfortable. Concentrating, DJ cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting, "That's it…careful…good, good. You're almost there…"

Slowly, the crane operator lowered the heavy equipment into place. A crowd of construction workers and others had gathered to watch the momentous occasion. With the generator in place, it would be the first step of many on the way to rebuilding civilization back to the level it had been before the war with Wyatt.

Looking down at his watch, DJ grimaced at the time. It was already past two in the afternoon and he had to get going. This was but one of many towns that he would be visiting over the next month, making sure that the innocents returning to their homes had as many of the basic supplies they needed that the Resistance could spare. All over the country, Chris had deployed as many of the Resistance scout teams to coordinate the logistics of moving everyone upworld – telepaths assigned to every team kept the undertaking running as smoothly as possible.

Glancing to his left, DJ caught the eye of his team's 'telepath', pointing at his watch. Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, Les simply rubbed his face wearily. Unused to the heat, he had to admit he almost missed the sterile but cold, steel structure of the underground complex that most of the Resistance had called home for years. In fact, most of those associated with the Resistance were still 'housed' there. Sighing to himself, he wished he was some place else. He knew most of the innocents were anxious to pick up their life from where it had left off, braving the 'world up there', and preferring to make their own way but secretly he felt they were being foolhardy. Though the war with Wyatt had ended some months ago, magic had still been exposed and demons were still creating havoc, albeit not with the same success as when the twice-blessed had backed them. Still, small skirmishes broke out across the country and elsewhere, forcing the Resistance from disbanding.

But as Chris and Darryl had firmly reminded him, this wasn't a police state. If people wanted to leave the safety of the compound prematurely, then it was up to the Resistance to make the transition as safely as possible.

DJ walked over to one of the construction workers, "Unfortunately we have to get going. There's another town about 100 miles down the road that are waiting for a generator as well. Think you can handle hooking it up on your own?"

The older gentleman, the construction supervisor, nodded reluctantly, "I'd prefer if you guys stuck around, but, yeah, I think we should be okay. What about the rest of the supplies we asked for? It's been going on three weeks since we requested them."

DJ sighed, "I know. We're doing the best we can." Clapping the older gentleman on the shoulder comradely, DJ looked at his watch again, "I really need to get our team going. I'll try to get someone to come out and check in with you in a few days to see how you're doing."

The crowd, which had moved off the perimeter to listen in on the conversation concerning their welfare, didn't like what they heard. "What are you trying to say?" a voice shouted from the crowd. "You're just going to leave?"

"Look," DJ emphasized, "we'll get you those supplies as soon as possible, but you have to understand we have cities all across the country that need as much help as you do. Until the factories come back on line, supplies are scarce, and we're going to need to ration everyone's supplies."

"What gives you the right to determine how much we _need_? Don't we, as the town, know what supplies we require to survive?"

"Of course, but we have orders coming in all around the country. Our telepaths are relaying the messages back to central command and they determine how to distribute the supplies as fairly as possible," DJ explained calmly.

"I heard that New York City got _three_ power generators before anyone else. Why do they get three while the rest of us have to suffer without any electricity for another day?" The man turned back to face the crowd, "Am I right?" Shouts of agreement rang out, and the crowd began to jostle forward, raising their fists angrily.

Coming forward to his friend's aid, Les quickly interjected, "We're trying to distribute everything out as fairly and as quickly as possible. You have to understand that the more densely populated areas are going to be priorities…"

"Who gave you the right to make those decisions? Who said you get to decide who's a priority or not?" The man, his face bright red either from the sun or from anger, Les wasn't sure which, pointed at one of the kids standing nearby. "Tell _him_ that he's not as high a priority as some kid in the city just because there's more of them there."

Les' face softened, "We're working as quickly as we can…"

"Well maybe that's not good enough!" Shouts of agreement sounded loudly in the air.

Trying to calm the crowd down, Les pleaded, "Listen to me!

Turning back to the crowd, the red-faced man snorted, "Why should we listen to him? If you ask me, it's the people of this town, it's the _people_ of this _country_ that should decide!"

"Hey, look," DJ interrupted calmly, stepping between the agitator and Les. "We're all in this together, okay?"

"No one asked you for your opinion, back-stabber!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" DJ sputtered angrily, his temper beginning to rise. "Are you kidding me?"

"Demons…witches…_magic_," the man spat in disgust. He pointed his finger accusingly at Les, "We're in this predicament because of you selfish bastards in the first place. You made your war ours!"

DJ's mouth dropped open in sheer disbelief at the incredible display of ignorance. Was this man _insane_?

"And you! You're no better! Helping these…_these freaks_!" The man swung his finger from Les to pointing at DJ. "If you aren't with us, then you're against us," the man continued to incite the crowd, feeding off the energy of the crowd and furthering the mob mentality. He looked over his shoulder at his supporters, yelling accusingly at the Resistance members, "Don't you get it yet? We don't need you and we certainly don't want you here! Go home!"

The crowd began to jeer and jostle, chanting, "Go home! Go home! Go home!"

Astonished at the lack of gratitude, DJ began to stride forward, ready to physically knock some sense into the misguided populace, when he felt himself held back. Turning slowly, he met Les' eyes. Les shook his head sadly, as if to say, _there's nothing more we can do here_.

Knowing it was the right thing to do, but still angry, DJ gave Les a curt nod in agreement. Reining in his anger, DJ turned his back on the crowd and silently followed his fellow Resistance members to the waiting trucks and jeeps. The small team of Resistance members silently loaded their equipment into the vehicles as the crowd watched them belligerently. Settling himself beside Les, DJ reached behind, pulling the shoulder belt down and strapped himself in. Giving the crowd one last look of disgust, DJ focused his attention on the road ahead as the vehicles began to pull away, the shouts and jeers of the mob still ringing in his ears.

_What the hell?

* * *

Elsewhere…_

Soft mist carpeted the ground. Stifling a yawn, Chris looked down at his watch. _6 AM._ _Way too early to be awake, let alone to be on a stakeout in some god-forsaken town._

Though the war had effectively ended, magic had still been exposed and demons were still pillaging the earth. The demons, now having tasted the freedom of the mortal realm, were reluctant to return to the underworld. And so, while the threat was not as great when Wyatt had led them as a cohesive force of evil, pockets of demons sprang up here and there, forcing the Resistance to continue in an effort to curb the demonic activity.

Hence, the stakeout.

The town, really a collection of deserted, half destroyed ramshackles lining a dirt road, probably would have been known before the war as one of those 'quaint' touristy towns city-yuppies would name drop when discussing their summer vacations at the water cooler. Now, if anything, it resembled a ghost town from the movies Chris used to watch as a kid. Any minute now he expected dried out tumbleweed to roll across the landscape like the opening scene in a bad western.

A slight tap on his shoulder caused Chris to glance to his right at his friend. Gesturing silently, Michael indicated he was going to go around back. Nodding his agreement, and stifling another yawn, Chris watched as Michael backed away slowly from the decrepit shed they were hiding behind to circle around.

Shivering slightly in the crisp, cool air of the early morning, Chris turned up the collar of his jacket, hoping to gain a little warmth and keep the dampness out. Suppressing the urge to yawn yet again, Chris hunkered down into his position to patiently wait.

A sharp _crack_ caught his attention.

Cautiously peering around the corner from his hiding place, he made eye contact with Michael who had now situated himself on the opposite side of the road behind a deserted corner store. Michael shook his head, indicating that while he had heard the sound, it certainly had not been him that had made it.

Which meant they were no longer alone.

Shifting slightly, Chris felt his every nerve ending come alive; his eyes darted from building to demolished building, searching for the slightest sign of movement.

_If something doesn't happen soon, I'm going to be a mess_…, Chris grimaced, noticing his antsy and jittery behaviour. _Bloody demons – why can't they just get on with it already?_

As if in response to his mental question, a couple of demons suddenly burst into the open from one of the nearby buildings. Snarling at each other, they emerged slowly from the doorway, engaged in a heated conversation.

_Just our luck…, _Chris groaned to himself, _trackers. Thank God the things are too stupid and too alpha male to remain in large packs or we'd be screwed._

Trackers were demons left over from the war with Wyatt. Standing well over six feet tall, their bodies a muddy brown with piercing yellow eyes, the creatures were resistant to direct magic, making them damn near impossible to kill.

Chris looked over at Michael, his eyebrow raised in question as if to ask – _You up to the task?_

His friend nodded grimly, bringing his crossbow into Chris' view. Gesturing silently with his hand, Chris indicated to Michael to take aim. Holding up three fingers, Chris waited for Michael to take aim before lining up his own shot. Once again glancing over at Michael, he held his breath as he began to fold his fingers in countdown.

_One_.

_Two_.

_Three_! 

Barrelling towards their targets, the arrows shot forward, literally whistling in the wind. Luck was with them; with a soft _thud_, Michael's arrow buried itself in the only vulnerable area of the demon, its throat. Chris' arrow, unfortunately, bounced off the shoulder plate of the other.

As its companion fell to the ground dead, the one remaining tracker jerked out of its surprised stupor, quickly dropping into a defensive position. Holding his breath, Chris could see the tracker's yellow eyes darting around as it searched for its enemies, its ears twitching. Suddenly, the demon's eyes alit on Chris' form, slightly hidden and still crouched behind the shed. Letting out a ferocious roar, the demon rushed towards him, snarling and drooling like a rabid animal.

_Crap_! 

Back-pedaling, Chris quickly reached behind to grab another arrow out of his quiver, trying to reload as swiftly as possible. The demon, less than a hundred feet away, continued to rush towards him. Letting loose the arrow, he swore as the arrow bounced uselessly off the demon's arm as it effectively blocked Chris' second shot.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris could see Michael scrambling out from behind his hiding position, yelling at him to run. His friend dropped to one knee, taking a second shot. Chris knew there was no way the arrow would penetrate the hide-covered back of the demon but hoped Michael's attempt would divert its attention.

No such luck.

The demon ignored Michael's attempt, not even acknowledging the assault from behind, its entire being focused on Chris with deadly intent. Cursing again, Chris again attempted to reload his crossbow.

Fifty feet.

"Chris – run!"

Twenty-five feet.

He fumbled, dropping the arrow before he could load it properly.

_Fuck_! 

Ten feet.

The tracker howled with victory, leaping into the air in a graceful arc to pounce on its prey, its demon yellow eyes filled with vicious hunger.

Knowing he couldn't outrun the tracker and that there wasn't enough time to load another arrow, Chris's green eyes widened as he saw the demon close the last few feet between them. Time seemed to slow as the tracker practically flew through the air towards him, its large drooling mouth opening to reveal its sharp, blackened teeth.

The demon's eyes narrowed with glee.

Chris could practically smell its foul breath.

_Shit_! 

He clenched his hand and using his telekinesis, he _shoved _with all his might.

The demon dropped to the ground with a _thud!_

"Holy shit!" Michael gasped, skidding to a halt in front of Chris as he looked down at the body of the demon in stunned surprise.

Chris' crossbow was buried in the throat of the demon.

His heartbeat slowing to normal, Chris reached down, pushing the demon over with his foot to inspect the damage. He sighed, glancing up at the still shell-shocked Michael.

"There goes another perfectly good crossbow."

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I just can't seem to write happy stories. You have been warned. BTW, I'd love to hear some feedback from those who are familiar with the original version of _Redundant_ in terms of the direction of the story as it progresses. Also, some déjà vu here for those who've read _Redundant_… 

Charmed Ravenclaw, mip3 (I'm going to go with the answer that Chris knew he could handle it…or not), chattypandagurl - Thanks for the warm welcome back!

**

* * *

The End of All Things**

**Chapter 1**

_The Manor…present day… _

He was dreaming.

The sky was an orange fireball now, fiery sparks streaking across the air, erupting in a shower of fire. Everywhere he turned, he could only see dense pillars of swirling black smoke, dirt and debris spinning upwards in towering clouds. Nearby, a fireball rose and mushroomed, causing dust to rise in a low haze from the ground, deafening and blinding all those around them. Energy bolts crackled and hissed in the thin air, buildings burned, and blast after blast continued to rain down from the skies.

The enemy surrounded them; chaos erupted all around as the demons shrieked with renewed rigor.

_His hair was a dirty blonde, hanging in tendrils past his shoulders in an unkempt mess. His pale blue eyes were icy cold, and his entire bearing seemed to personify arrogance. There was a focused, almost cold, quality to his gaze; a sneer of contempt that curled his lip. _

_No! It wasn't possible!_

_Bruised, battered, his clothes tattered, Wyatt was staggering his way across the clearing; there was a cut above Wyatt's eye, deep enough that blood slowly dripped down the side of his face, lending him a most sinister air. _

_It couldn't be._

_They had saved him. _

_Changed his destiny. Changed fate._

_He saw the blade catch the sunlight, and arc down, and knew it for the one that would kill him._

_Green eyes stared up sightlessly at him._

He woke up, sweating profusely.

The images were still vivid in his mind's eye. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he put his head between his knees, breathing deeply. The dreams had been coming more and more frequently of late. And always, they ended the same way.

Shivering despite the warm night air, he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold the nightmares at bay. His shirt was damp against his back and his hands were clammy from his perspiration. He desperately tried to control his breathing, as his heart raced a mile a minute.

_It won't happen_, he thought. _I won't _let_ it happen._

He started, as he heard a creak from the bed and then felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Leo, is everything okay?"

* * *

_In the future…_

He was tired.

Although he wanted nothing more than to orb back directly to base, Chris had a couple more meetings to attend before he could return. It seemed his days kept getting longer and longer, instead of shorter. Even with Wyatt…gone…the days were still fraught with tension, with never a respite and the hectic schedule was just one more burden beginning to take its toll on him.

He sighed again, before orbing to his next meeting.

"Chris – it's good to see you," Kate's melodic voice rang clear across the green meadow.

Smiling, Chris strode forward to clasp the slender brunette's hand in greeting. "Kate. It's good to see you. How are you and your sisters?"

The valkyrie shrugged slightly, "As good as can be. Most of Valhalla was left untouched. Much of it is exactly how we left it."

Chris nodded seriously, "I'm glad. One less group for me to worry about."

Kate laughed musically. "Of course," she teased, "anything to make your life easier."

Chris laughed good-naturedly at the gentle ribbing, "I guess that did sound a little selfish, didn't it? I'm sorry. Truly, I'm glad your home wasn't destroyed."

Kate smiled gently at the young man, "I know what you meant, Chris. I was just teasing you. Anyways, come, come. We have much to discuss."

Leading him deeper into the woods, the two walked along a path that would lead them to the valkyries' main living area. Luxuriant plants and wildflowers littered the path to Chris' left and right, gifting the slightly humid air with a fragrant, sweet scent. The air was filled with the slight buzzing of bees and the soft cries of birds. Ducking under a low hanging branch, the two emerged into a grassy clearing. Multiple huts made of wood with roofs covered with straw lined the rough circle. Everywhere he looked, valkyries were laughing and getting on with daily life.

He paused to take in the rare scene.

It was nice.

Swinging his eyes back to Kate, Chris followed her into one of the huts, where a small table and a couple of chairs had been set up. A pot of tea sat in the middle, and as Chris took a seat, Kate poured some of the steaming liquid into a nearby cup, nodding with her head for him to help himself.

Blowing on the hot water, Chris cautiously took a sip. Strong, fragrant and dark – it was obvious that it had been brewed to perfection. Looking over the rim of his cup, he watched as Kate took a sip of her own before setting the cup back down. Studying her from beneath his lashes, Chris could read her nervous body language. As the silence stretched, Chris decided to take the initiative, "Well? Why did you want me to come here, Kate? Why have Jack tell communications you needed to see me personally? He's your liaison for a reason, Kate."

"It's not that I don't trust Jack, you know that. And I appreciate you assigning a telepath to us. But…," Kate heaved a small sigh, her eyes sliding away from Chris' to where her sisters were drawing water from one of the many wells in the compound. "I'm…it's probably nothing."

Chris took another sip of his tea, waiting. Kate would reveal to him her reasons for him being there in her own time. As he waited patiently, his hand began to shake. Slowly putting his cup down, he gritted his teeth as the tea cup rattled noisily against the saucer.

"Chris?" Kate's voice was full of concern, "Are you okay? Why is your hand shaking?"

Chris smiled reassuringly at the valkyrie, "Sorry. A combination of lack of sleep and caffeine tends to make me shaky. You were saying?"

Pausing, Kate let her eyes rest on Chris' face, as if judging his answer. Seemingly satisfied, she took another sip of her tea. "I'm…nervous."

"Nervous?" Chris asked, shaking his head in amazement. He clutched his chest in mock horror, "A valkyrie nervous? Great Zeus, the world as I know it must be coming to an end."

"Funny," Kate gave him a derisive look. "I'm serious, Chris. Something…something's in the air."

Rather than ignoring Kate's vague implication, Chris contemplated the valkyrie seriously. She wouldn't have asked him to meet her here if there wasn't something serious bothering her. Chris shook his head, "Kate – I could do without the cryptic talk. Tell it to me straight. What's going on?"

Taking a slow sip from her tea, Kate gazed out at the clearing before her, "This place is paradise."

Chris nodded in agreement, saying nothing, keeping his face carefully blank yet open.

"This place is _our_ paradise."

Again, he said nothing.

"It hasn't changed in thousands of years. It's always remained the same. Beautiful. Peaceful…safe," Kate paused, before saying in a low voice, "Because no one knew about it."

"You're worried because it's no longer a secret," Chris said flatly, following her logic.

"Magic was exposed. I accept that," Kate shrugged nonchalantly. "My sisters and I…when we joined your forces to rise against Wyatt, we knew we were exposing ourselves. We knew we were exposing our home."

"You and your sisters are warriors," Chris reminded her, still slightly unsure where this discussion was leading. "The best of the best. So the demons know where Valhalla is. Surely you don't think they would be so foolish to try and attack you."

Kate closed her eyes for a long time. Taking a deep breath, she set aside her tea, staring into Chris' green eyes, "It's not the demons I'm worried about."

* * *

_The Manor…present time…_

"Good morning," Phoebe sang, as she breezed into the kitchen.

Looking up from feeding the newest addition to the Halliwell family his bottle, Piper replied, "Good morning. You're up early."

"Yep. Got lots of things to do today." Phoebe picked up the coffee pot and began to pour herself a cup of coffee. Blowing on the hot liquid, she started to list, "Have to drop off my clothes at the dry cleaners, stop at the jeweller's to get my watch fixed and then check in at work. How about you?"

Glancing at Wyatt to make sure he was behaving in his high chair, Piper shrugged. "I've got to get to the club later, and then take Chris and Wyatt to the doctor's for a check up."

"And how are my two favourite nephews doing?" After dropping off her now drained cup of coffee in the sink, Phoebe walked over to Wyatt, reaching down to gently pinch his cheek.

Munching away happily, Wyatt reached up to swat at his aunt's hand, before returning his attention to his bowl of cheerios. Chuckling, Phoebe ruffled her nephew's hair, before turning her attention to her sister. "And Leo? How's he doing?"

Piper quirked her eyebrow at her sister, "Fine. Why? You know something I don't?"

"No, ah, nope, well –," Phoebe began to sputter. "Okay, promise you won't get mad?"

"Why? Why would I need to promise that?" Piper remarked, offhandedly, her attention now focused on putting Chris over her shoulder to burp the baby.

"Because, because…" Sighing, Phoebe pulled up a chair next to her sister, trying to find the right words to frame her response. "You know I can't read you, right?"

"Are you talking about your empathy stuff again?" Piper handed Chris to her sister, as she turned to help Wyatt with his cheerios.

"Yes…" Phoebe gently juggled Chris in her lap, cooing at him gently, "And just _where_ the heck is Paige?"

"You're changing the subject," Piper said absently, as she began to pick some of the cheerios off the table and placed them back into Wyatt's bowl. "And she's at Magic School, where else?"

"So much for stay at home auntie…" Phoebe sighed, as she made funny faces at Chris, trying to get the baby to smile at her.

"You know, one of these days your face is going to freeze like that…" Piper grinned, as she focused her attention back to Phoebe. "Besides, cut her some slack – you know she loves her new job."

"Yeah, I know…" Phoebe dragged, "but it also means we only have income from my job at the paper and your club now. And no offensive to my super cute little nephew, but he _is_ another mouth we have to feed."

"It's important to her," Piper shrugged, and reaching over to take Chris back into her arms, "and it's important to Chris. Remember?"

"I know!" Phoebe threw her hands up defensively. "It's just with all the people in this house, I almost kind of wished you had married a millionaire. Are you sure Leo doesn't have some money tucked away somewhere? I mean, can you imagine what his savings would be by now?" she joked.

"Phoebe!" Piper exclaimed, exasperated. "Why don't _you_ marry a millionaire?"

Phoebe's smile dimmed, just a bit. "I think – I think I'm going to give dating a bit of a break."

Piper frowned at her sister, "Is this about Les? I mean, you knew him, for what? A day?"

"My guess, with all the time travel – errrr…two and a half!" Phoebe smiled weakly, "But who's counting? I don't know…I just…I felt this connection with him; something that I hadn't felt with anyone for a very long time. It was…like, we _clicked_ or something."

"Well –," Piper tried to bring Phoebe's spirits up. "You could probably go looking for him. He'd be what? Almost 10 right now?"

Phoebe was horrified, "Ewwwwwww! That is, just – ewwwwww! Piper!"

Laughing at Phoebe's horror-struck face, Piper almost keeled over with laughter as Phoebe began to mimic hooving in her disgust.

"Enough! Okay, please! Enough!" Piper choked with laughter, as she felt her eyes began to tear. "Didn't you want to talk to me about Leo?"

Ceasing her antics, Phoebe sobered. "I can _feel_ Leo. At night."

"What?" Piper was amazed, "Don't you have to be within a couple of feet or something before your powers kick in?"

Phoebe nodded. "Yeah, but I think because whatever Leo's dreaming at night is so…disturbing…it's strong enough to project itself so that I've been picking up on it."

Piper blinked. "Can you tell me what he's feeling? He won't talk to me about it, at all. He's been waking up almost every night from these nightmares, and he won't open up to me about them."

"I don't know…" Phoebe said, doubtfully. "I don't want to intrude on Leo's privacy…"

"So why did you bring it up in the first place?" Piper glared at her sister, cuddling Chris on her lap at the same time as the baby began to fuss.

"Because I thought you already knew! I thought I'd just be telling you that I could feel his emotions too and that maybe he'd want to watch it!" Phoebe defended.

"I'm his _wife_, Phoebe. Husbands don't _have_ privacy from their wives," Piper stated.

"I guess. Works for me." Frowning, Phoebe said, "Seriously, though, Piper. I think Leo really needs to talk. These nightmares, they're not just recurring for him, but now for me too! Or at least the emotions I keep feeling from those nightmares. Every night I feel like I'm going to wake up screaming too!"

"Well, what is he feeling?" Piper asked, bewildered.

"It's hard to explain," Phoebe paused, thinking deeply.

"Try."

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

Rolling her eyes, Phoebe shrugged. "I feel…pain. Fear. Some self-guilt. Sorry – that's all that I can think to describe it."

"It's enough," Piper frowned, concerned. "He won't talk to me about it at all. I'm beginning to think it's got something to do with our trip to the future. Don't you?"

Phoebe got up from her chair, picking up her handbag. "_I_ have nightmares from our trip as well. So, no, it wouldn't surprise me."

"You have nightmares? How come you didn't tell me?" Piper asked, worriedly.

Phoebe rolled her eyes again. "Unlike Leo, _I_ know enough to share. Paige and I have been talking. How about you?"

"What? Nightmares?" Piper shook her head. "None."

"None?" Phoebe asked in disbelief, as she checked her lipstick in her compact once more.

"None," Piper said, firmly. "Because none of that is going to happen. Because I know that the kids are safe, and we're going to keep them that way."

Opening her mouth to argue with her sister, Phoebe's mouth snapped shut with a click, as she recognized the stubbornness in Piper's face. Instead, Phoebe replied, "I've got to go to work. We'll talk later, okay?"

"There's nothing to talk about!" Piper shouted at her sister's back.

"Bye!" Phoebe shouted over her shoulder, as she rushed out the door. "We'll talk about Leo when I get back!"

And the door slammed shut.

"Talking about me?" Leo questioned, as he materialized into the kitchen, leaning down to kiss Wyatt's cheek. "Hey buddy."

Startled, Piper jumped a foot. "Geez! Don't DO that!"

Pulling up a chair in front of Wyatt, Leo began to assist his son with eating. "So what were you two going to say about me?"

Cursing silently, Piper gave her husband the evil eye. "Your nightmares. You need to deal. I need you to open up to me. Talk to me."

"Piper," Leo started to protest, tiredly. The heavy bags under his eyes clearly indicated it had been another sleepless night for him. It was getting harder now, trying to sleep. When the nightmares had first started, Leo would try to fall back asleep. But now, he would get up and walk around. He dreaded sleeping because every time his head hit the pillow, he saw the horrible future that was coming.

"No –," Piper shook her head. Damn it, she was tired too. Tired of trying to be supportive, tired of holding their family together, and tired of being the strong one. "Leo, your nightmares aren't just affecting you anymore. Phoebe's powers are picking up on it too. So much that she's having problems sleeping as well now."

Setting Wyatt's spoon down, Leo turned to look at his wife. "I'm sorry. Tell Phoebe I'm sorry."

"Leo, it's not about being sorry. Phoebe's worried about you. _I'm_ worried about you. And the kids know you're not yourself. They pick up on stuff like that. I think you need to talk to me about what's bothering you. Maybe I can help you through whatever it is you're going through," Piper juggled Chris in her lap, as she watched him sleep.

"I keep seeing the future, Piper. Chris' future. The one he showed us. And I'm terrified that it will come to pass. That we won't change their future, the way Chris needed us to," Leo sighed, running his hand wearily through his hair. "I know that we won't let it happen, but the images – they just won't stop. I…I don't know what to do."

Piper was silent. She too worried about their sons' futures. The short time that they had spent with their son from the future in his timeline had been a revelation. And not a comforting one. The death and destruction, the constant barrage of attacks…it had been a war zone. "I'm worried too. Actually, I've been thinking about this for awhile, but I wasn't sure what you'd think, so I haven't said anything."

"What?" Leo asked, puzzled.

"I think we should make a trip to the future," Piper held up her hand as Leo began to protest. "I know, I know. Personal gain, blah, blah, blah. But I really think the circumstances warrant it. I…I think I need to know our boys are going to be okay, that Wyatt is still good and that Chris…that Chris has the happiness he deserves. I really think this could help us put our minds at ease. And for you to get some sleep."

"Are you sure? Do you really think this will help? Are you positive?" Leo asked, doubtfully.

"Well, it can't hurt, can it? I'm sure," Piper smiled gently at her husband. "I need to know too. I need to know that we saved Wyatt and that Chris – that Chris is okay. You take the kids to dad's. I'll get Phoebe and Paige to come home. This is going to have to be a Power of Three spell."

"All right then," Leo nodded back gravely, "We're agreed."

"And then we'll know for sure whether or not we saved Wyatt."

* * *

_In the future…_

Fire from the torches licked the walls, creating shadows and leaving him half sheltered in the darkness. Deep in the bowels of the earth, the demon stretched, eyeing his nervous companion, Phinks. "Something the matter?"

Phinks shook his head vehemently, stuttering nervously, "No. No! Of…of…of course nnnn…not, my…my…lord."

After the Resistance had defeated Wyatt, most of the remaining demons had fled from their pursurers into the Underworld once again. Without the firepower of the twice blessed to back them, the demons knew they were at a distinct disadvantage. In the confusion of the retreat, the demons had quickly reverted to their basic nature – every 'demon' for himself. It was into this void of leadership that Zankou had quickly stepped forward, taking advantage of the chaos of the situation before the others could even think of instituting a power struggle.

_You've done very well for yourself_, Zankou congratulated himself silently. Establishing himself as ruler of the Underworld during that time of uncertainty had been risky, but it had paid off. He was, once again, feared and respected by the others. Reclining lazily in his chair, he surveyed one of his current minions through half-lidded eyes.

Although there were the inevitable pockets of demons who refused to follow _anyone_, Zankou had ruthlessly removed all…obstacles…to his path of rule. After all, he _was_ one of the most powerful demons to exist. And with the twice blessed gone…it was only natural for him to fill the power vaccum.

But it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

His fists clenched involuntarily. Not until all the witches were dead and the humans enslaved and every living being bowed down to _him_.

Then, maybe, it would be enough.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

Cowering in front of Zankou, Phinks could feel his knees knocking together. Clasping his hands together and keeping his head bowed, Phinks stammered, "The Resistance…they vanquished the trackers at the site you sents them to. And the team of brute demons weren't no better…" Phinks swallowed, hoping his master wouldn't kill the messenger, "And they says they too scared to try again."

"Bah!" Zankou spat. "All fools. Never send idiots to do a demon's work."

Peeping up quickly, Phinks quickly dropped his eyes to the floor again as he saw Zankou was pacing the cavern now. Timidly, Phinks cleared his throat, "What should I do now, my lord?"

Halting abruptly, Zankou whirled on his minion, his eyes narrowing, "I am tired of being driven underground. I am tired of these…humans…who think they are better than us."

Trying to inject a little ill-timed humour, Phinks said half-jokingly, "Well, they thinks they're better than witches too."

Grabbing Phinks by his throat, Zankou slammed the lesser demon into the wall, "WHAT did you say?"

"Nothing…" Phinks began to blubber, clearly terrified. "Nothing, my lord. I swear, I said nothing. Just that…the humans…I heard they ain't fond of the Resistance either."

Studying the pathetic excuse of a demon, Zankou's curiousity was invoked. "Explain," he ordered, slowly releasing his death grip around Phinks' neck, the imprint of his fingers leaving red marks on Phinks' skin.

Rubbing his neck tenderly, Phinks cleared his throat a couple times before squeaking, "Just that I heards some of the humans…they was made that the Resistance weren't giving them the supplies they wants. They says the Resistance don't know nothing about nothing. That them witches were freaks."

Zankou regarded Phinks thoughtfully, "They do, do they?"

Nodding vigorously, Phinks continued, "I heards they says it's all the Resistance's fault for the way things is. Them were ready to pound those folks for talkin' so."

Phinks twitched and squirmed under Zankou's intense stare. As an idea began to percolate in his mind, Zankou asked with a distracted air, "You're sure about this?"

Phinks blinked stupidly.

"About the humans being upset with the Resistance," Zankou growled.

Phinks nodded so rapidly he thought his head would fall off. He gulped, "Yes!"

_So the humans are getting agitated…how do I use this to my advantage? _Stroking his chin, an evil grin began to stretch across Zankou's face, "Excellent."

"My lord?"

Zankou waved his hand dismissively, "Leave me. I need to think upon this further. And your snivelling is distracting me."

Relieved at the reprieve, Phinks bowed deeply before shimmering out.

Alone, Zankou swept towards his makeshift throne and sat down carefully, still deep in thought.

Once again, he was trapped in the underworld.

And once again, he was being handed the opportunity to find his way out.

* * *

_In the present…_

"Victor," Leo called out for his father-in-law as he materialized into a hallway.

A head poked around from the doorframe, "Leo? That you?" Venturing from the kitchen, Victor stepped into his hall to eye his son-in-law. "You couldn't phone?"

"Err, not really," Leo said, slightly apologetic.

"Grandpa!" a young voice insisted.

Before Victor could blink, blue orbs next to Leo disappeared before reforming in Victor's arms. Gathering his wits, Victor quickly formed his arms into a hold to catch the toddler, "Hello, Wyatt."

The blonde, blue eyed toddler giggled, "Grandpa!"

Leo's mouth quirked as he tried to scold his errant son, failing miserably, "Now Wyatt. What did we talk about using your powers outside the Manor. It's a no-no, remember?"

Wyatt's head swivelled between the two stern looking adults. The little tyke pouted, his head dropping against his chest.

Patting his young son awkwardly on the head as he juggled with baby Chris who he was holding in his other arm, Leo smiled warmly at his two-year-old, "That's my boy."

"Okay," Victor turned the toddler in his arms to face him. "You are really growing, aren't you big guy?" As Wyatt smiled at him, Victor weezed slightly, "I think I'm going to have to put you down."

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what this is all about?" Victor eyed Leo who transferred Chris into Victor's now free arms.

"We, ah…, the sisters and I, that is," Leo struggled to explain, "Piper thinks…believes we should check up on…the future."

Victor's eyebrows into his hairline as he sputtered, "Is that wise? What about…future consequences?"

Leo bent down to press a kiss against the downy soft head of his newborn son. "It's because of Chris that we know what we do. We won't be there long, Victor. Just long enough to reassure ourselves that Chris and Wyatt are both happy and healthy."

Looking down at the napping baby in his arms, Victor sighed softly. "Did you at least bring me some diapers and formula?"

Leo grinned. "I put the bag next to the door over there," Leo pointed at the bag packed chock full of baby supplies. "Some of Wyatt's toys are in there, too. In case he gets bored."

At the sound of his name, Wyatt looked up, "Daddy!"

Crouching down so that he was on the same level as Wyatt, Leo smiled into his eldest's eyes, "Hey, buddy. You remember what we talked about, okay? You're to be really good for Grandpa here, right?"

Wyatt nodded solemnly, clutching the teddy bear he had brought with him to his chest tightly.

"And no using powers, got that?" Leo reminded his son. "You can use your shield if you have to protect yourself, your baby brother and Grandpa, but that's it. Right?"

Again, Wyatt nodded, hearing the seriousness in his father's voice.

"That's my boy," Leo said proudly, holding his arms out. Wyatt walked into them and Leo enclosed his son in his arms for a tight hug. Pressing a hard kiss against the toddler's forehead, Leo released his son and stood up. Nodding at Victor, "I've got to go."

Victor nodded, "Say 'hi' to Chris for me."

Leo shook his head, "If the future's changed, he won't remember you."

Victor shrugged, "Regardless, tell both my grandsons I love them."

"Will do," Leo squeezed his father in law's arm reassuringly, "Thanks, Victor. We really need to do this."

"If I didn't agree with you, these two wouldn't be staying here," Victor gave Leo a pointed look.

Stepping back, Leo orbed out, "I'll come get them as soon as we're…back."

Sighing, Victor looked down at the grandson cradled in his arms, "Looks like its just your brother, you and me, kiddo."

To be continued….


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Small disclaimer for this chapter - I'm not Irish so I apologise right now if I offend anyone with my phonetic attempt. Also, thanks for letting me know that there are still some people interested in this revision… 

**Thanks go to:**

**Chattypandagurl:** Welcome to my world – although I suspect my many issues with the site are more to do with my incredible ineptness with all things even remotely computer oriented. (Looks fondly at the typewriter and 8 track player sitting in the corner…)

**Zeria**: Thanks for the cheer! I needed that. And I heartily agree with your other observations…although regarding Zankou, I will say this – I stopped watching half way through season 7 so I never did find out what happened to him (I assume they vanquished him, like they do with most demons). I'm just too damned lazy to invent new characters for demons (actually any character at all, hence Les, DJ, Michael, etc.)

**Icantthinkofafnick: **Right back at you! I'm always impressed how quickly you update your own stories and yet still find time to read other people's fanfic! Myself, I can never seem to do more than one at a time. Also, thanks for the encouraging words!

**Charmed Ravenclaw:** Yep, brain decided it wanted to spew this out instead. Glad you're finding it intriguing. You'll let me know if it gets boring, right? 

**Mjp3:** Not to worry, Chris will definitely be getting more screen time. (He is my favourite character, even if it doesn't always seem so.) Thanks for the review. It's good to hear people are thinking this revision is more in character – it makes the many hours spent at the keyboard worth it.

**Starry Sky 44:** I think from the reviews people like yourself have been nice enough to leave clearly indicate they feel Chris is much more in character this time round. I hope to continue writing him that way and make up for my stumbling in _Redundant_. Thanks for letting me know – it gives me the energy to continue.

Also: thanks to those who left me reviews in my other stories…it is appreciated.

* * *

**The End of All Things**  
**Chapter 2 **

_The Bay area…in the future _

The skies were blue, the sun was shining and a gentle breeze ruffled his hair. In short, a beautiful day…something Chris, and the rest of the human population, hadn't had a chance to experience for a long time.

Too bad it was being ruined.

"…and another thing, I think you should all carry identification, or something," the woman finished abruptly.

Breathing in the sweet air, Chris tried to concentrate on the task at hand. He'd been having a hard time lately staying focused. Shaking his head slowly as if in a daze, "I'm sorry?"

Throwing up her hands in desperation, the older woman, approximately in her fifties, was clearly agitated. Her red hair was liberally streaked with grey, and the crow's feet around her eyes distracted from the rather keen eyes that were currently narrowed on him. "Chris – pay attention!"

Stifling the urge to sigh and feeling very much like a kid who'd been caught daydreaming in class, Chris nodded, rubbing the back of his neck wearily, "Sorry. Come again?"

"I said," the woman huffed, "I think all magical beings should carry identification cards. So we can make sure …"

"Look, Jenny," Chris addressed the former inspector a little shortly, "I don't see the point of having these cards. I mean, what's the purpose of them?"

"To keep track of you guys!" Jenny Sheridan pointed out. "Chris – you said it yourself. The world has changed. We can't go back to before; where we all pretended you didn't exist. You _do_ exist. And everyone knows that now. So the most important thing is that we all learn to…deal with it."

"Deal with it?" Chris was genuinely confused. _What was there to deal with?_

Jenny sighed, "Look, kid. I've known you for a long time. I've known your family longer than I care to admit. People…they want to feel safe again. I think it would go a long way if you guys carried some sort of…identification. That would identify you as magical beings that humans can trust. That's all."

Chris shook his head, "I don't know. It just sounds…I don't know. I should really talk to the others about it."

About to open her mouth to argue further, Jenny broke off as she suddenly pointed at Chris' face, "_Chris!_"

Touching his hand to his nose, he could feel the blooding dripping freely down from his nostrils. Swiftly, he turned away from the group, groping his pockets for the handkerchief he knew was there. Pressing the cloth to his nose and squeezing tight, he glanced back at Jenny, apologizing, "Sorry."

"Are you…are you okay?" Jenny asked hesitantly, alarmed at the amount of blood his nosebleed had generated. It didn't seem…right.

"Fine," Chris said briskly, still holding the blood soaked material to his nose. "It's the dry weather, you know? Anyways, I should get going…"

"One last thing, Chris…" Looking over her shoulder at the group behind her who were acting as temporary city council leaders, Jenny hesitated briefly before plunging forward. "We want you to cast the no-orbing spell again."

Chris blinked stupidly, "Excuse me?"

"Just over our city," Jenny hastened to assure him. "It's just…we'd feel safer if…we couldn't be taken by surprise."

"By demons or by the Resistance?" Chris bit out, waving away Jenny's attempt to explain further. "Forget it. I don't want to hear it. As long as you're fully aware of the consequences. If demons attack, it could make a difference…"

She shrugged. "I think I speak for all of us when I say it's a chance we're willing to take. I think everyone would sleep better at night knowing there was no way demons could orb in and kill us all in our sleep."

"Shimmer," Chris said curtly. At Jenny's questioning look, he replied tightly, "Demons shimmer. Whitelighters orb. Remember, whitelighters? The good guys?"

Looking slightly embarrassed, Jenny nodded almost too quickly, "Of course."

Not knowing what else to do, Chris sighed, making a snapdecision, "All right. I'll get Ben to drop by and cast your spell. I'll have to get back to you on the identity card thing though. I think there are a couple of people I need to talk it over with first…"

Again, Jenny nodded, "I think that'd be best. Go talk to whoever you need to. And let us know."

Disturbed, but not really knowing why, Chris nodded uneasily, "Are we done here?"

Jenny nodded her head in assent, "Yeah. Give my regards to Darryl."

Nodding his goodbye at Jenny and the others, Chris slowly backed away before materializing out. _Just what the heck is going on?_

* * *

_Magic School…present time_

"Hey, Paige. Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Paige rubbed her tired eyes, raising her gaze from the book in front of her. "Ben! How are you? Sure, come on in." Waving her hands at the chair in front of her desk, "Have a seat."

Ben walked into the study, and pulling out the indicated chair, he sat himself across from Paige. She had found this room on one of her recent explorations of Magic School; she figured if she was going to be the headmistress, then she had better find out what exactly _was_ Magic School. She was currently in one of the many rooms in Magic School that housed the library archives; this particular study stored the ones on time travel, travel to other dimensions and other 'travelling' chronicle type books. She had spent the better part of the morning reading through the many tomes. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the perspective, since her eyes were beginning to glaze over), as Chris had once mentioned, there was little documented information on that magical phenomenon.

"What are you doing?" he asked, nodding his head at the open book in front of her.

Paige blinked. She knew she was sort of staring at Ben, but frankly, it was the first time she had seen him since her little trip to the future. It was hard to reconcile the image of the older Ben in the future, a virtual 'professor' of magic, with the younger man seated in front of her.

"Ah, Paige?" Ben waved his hand in front of Paige's face. "You okay?"

"What! Oh yeah, sure," Paige grinned, weakly, gathering her thoughts. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Ben pointed at the book on the desk, "I was just asking you what you were reading."

Looking down at the book like she had never seen it before, Paige checked the front cover, "Ah – something on time travel."

"That interesting, huh?" Ben grinned, good-humouredly.

Paige chuckled. "You took the words right out of my mouth. Anyways, you didn't come in here to ask me about my day. What can I help you with?"

Ben's face immediately became serious. "I just finished speaking with Mrs. Winterbourne and she told me that I'm going to need to start working on my thesis soon, if I want to get my Ph.D started."

"Ph.D? Magic School has that?" Paige asked, scratching her head in wonder. "What kind of job can you get with a Ph.D in magic, anyways?"

Ben grinned. "I'm not doing it for a 'job', Paige. I _like_ researching and finding new ways for using magic."

Thinking about the future where she had just returned from, Paige nodded hastily, "That's great! I think you should go for it! Definitely."

"Ah, thanks," Ben replied, a little puzzled by Paige's overwhelming enthusiasm. "Anyways, the reason I wanted to talk to you was I was wondering if you had any ideas about a topic for my thesis. I really don't want to do the typical stuff – you know, a new vanquishing potion, or a 'study of the history of the Charmed Ones.'"

Paige made a bit of a face, "Please – definitely no study on the Charmed Ones. How about cataloguing all demons and other evil entities?"

Ben shook his head. "Nah – I want something really exciting, different. That's so been done."

Fingering the book in her hand, Paige looked down for a minute, "Uhh, what about time travel?"

Ben brightened. "That's a great idea! I don't think anyone's ever done anything on time travel before." His face fell, just a bit. "I'm not sure I'd be able to cover such an enormous topic though. I think I need to tackle something a little smaller first."

About to make another suggestion, Paige paused, hearing in the back of her mind, _Paige!_

Noticing the expression on Paige's face, Ben prompted, "Something the matter?"

She shook her head, "Just my sister. I think she wants me to come home."

"Well, I won't hold you up then," Ben smiled, rising from his seat. "Thanks again for the advice, Paige."

_Paige!_

As Piper's voice rang in her ears again, Paige bit back a sigh. Rolling her eyes heavenward, she responded, exasperated, even though she knew Piper couldn't hear her, "All right, already. Geez!" Turning her attention back to Ben's amused face, she narrowed her eyes at him, "Oh, wipe that smirk off your face."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Ben shook his head and waved goodbye. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

_Paige!_

"Okay," Paige sighed, as once again, Piper's voice nagging incessantly in her head. As Ben left the office, Paige threw her hands up in the air. It was obvious she wasn't going to get any of the paperwork she so desperately needed to be completed done today. Ready to commit sororicide, Paige clapped both hands over her ears and orbed out as Piper gave one last command...

_Oh, and don't forget to get Phoebe too!

* * *

In the future…_

"Ah, young Christopher…how ye be?"

The question, along with a puff of smoke from the leprechaun's pipe was the first thing that greeted Chris as his blues orbs quickly formed in front of his host. Rolling his eyes at the leprechaun, Chris' lips quirked into a quick smirk, "That has got to be the worst Irish brogue I've ever heard."

"What are ye talkin' bout?" the red haired Riley mock glared at his young friend. "I'd like to see ye do better."

"Please no!" Chris held up his hands in a flurry of protest. "No need to humiliate myself this late in the day, please?"

Dropping the thick Irish brogue to take on a more mild accent, Riley grinned a gap-toothed smile, "Seriously, Christopher. How are you?"

"I'm good," Chris waved his hand at their surroundings. "Nice place." He coughed into his hand, "If a little bit smoky."

The 'place' Chris was referring to was, by all accounts, an old fashioned tavern. Dark wood panelling and dim lighting completed the cozy atmosphere. Squinting, Chris could make out the numerous leprechauns, fairies, ogres and a bunch of other magical beings lounging around on various bar stools and benches. In the background, distinctly Irish music filtered between the low voices from the tavern's patrons. Impressed, Chris raised his eyebrow in question, "I was wondering why you wanted to change the location of our regular meetings."

Riley smiled proudly, his chest puffing out, "One of the first places we set about making right. We just finished the work a couple of weeks ago. Good thing there wasn't too much damage. Fixed it up nicely, didn't we?"

Feeling a little disoriented, Chris tried to nod appreciatively, "I like the, uh, wood panelling. Reminds me of those gentlemen's clubs in those old movies."

Riley winked, "The wood nymphs were nice enough to donate a wee part of their forest home for our little piece of heaven in exchange for some drinks on the house. But it's worth it, eh?"

Thinking of the hungry and mostly homeless people he had just left, Chris swallowed his urge to pontificate, choosing to say neutrally instead, "I've got a lot of things I've still got to do, Riley. Maybe we should get down to business."

"Of course, laddie," Riley clapped Chris on the shoulder comradely. "Let me get you a drink. On the house, of course."

Steering the young man to a small table in the corner at the back of the room, Riley waved for Chris to take a seat. As Chris seated himself, Riley yelled over his shoulder, "Meghan! Bring us some ale to warm ourselves, will you?"

Wincing at the stout man's rather booming voice, Chris cleared his throat, "Just water for me, please." At Riley's disbelieving look, Chris said defensively, "I'm still on duty, Riley."

Riley snorted, "Laddie, you're ALWAYS on duty. I don't think I've ever seen you _not_ on duty." He looked up as a short, middle-aged woman plunked down two mugs,the liquid it contained sloshing over the rims, creating a pool of beer on the table. "That's premium stuff there, woman! Watch what you're doing!"

Glaring at Riley, with her arms akimbo, the woman named Meghan growled, "Who are you calling woman? You watch your mouth! I don't take orders from you Riley O'Brien!"

Chris watched in amusement as the woman marched away and Riley turned back to his friend, shrugging sheepishly, "Women!" Raising his mug to Chris, "Cheers, laddie!"

Sighing, Chris knew Riley wouldn't get down to business unless he partook in the alcohol imbibing tradition. Raising his mug as well, Chris took a quick swallow of the warm ale, trying not to grimace, "Cheers." It was one North American habit he couldn't break – beer should always be served cold in his opinion.

"Not to your liking?" Riley inquired, his bushy eyebrows wagging at Chris in humour. The leprechaun was fully aware of his friend's heathen lager practices.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Chris ignored the taunt for what it was. An attempt to poke humour at Chris' decidedly 'un-civilized' tastes…at least, according to the little Irishman. "Don't make me forget we're friends…"

The leprechaun let out a belt of gruff laughter, "Drink up, Chris, me friend. You're going to need it."

Rather than encouraging him to take another swallow of the warmish ale, Chris' eyes darkened in concern, "Why? Are you just joking or is something really up?"

The leprechaun took another long draught before, "We leprechauns – we like our fun."

Chris rolled his eyes, "Believe me, I know. I've had to carry you home more than once, Riley. Let me tell you, when you're inebriated you've got the worst singing voice I've ever had the misfortune to hear."

Riley grinned, "That's why I've always liked ye, my friend. You're responsible."

"Is there a point to this ego stroking?" Chris raised his eyebrow sardonically.

Sobering, Riley put down his pint and stared at Chris directly in the eyes, "I'm worried."

"Worried?" Chris shook his head. "About what?"

"The other day, some of my people ran into the local human population. You know we try to keep away from the folks, but these ones were apparently looking for us. Heard we might be able to help them. Well, of course my folks told them they weren't responsible for helping them. Next thing they know, a big fight broke out. It was only because I happened to be nearby that I managed to interrupt the troublemakers before someone got hurt." Riley sighed, taking another puff of his pipe. "I don't like it, Chris. Those humans – they had a mean look about them."

Chris frowned at Riley, "These humans came looking for you?"

Riley nodded, "They had heard from someone, they say, about our little home here. They came storming into the place, accusing us of hogging all the construction material and food supplies to build this place."

Chris raised his eyebrow.

Riley's face darkened, his accent thickening as his emotions rose, "We didna use the supplies you allocated to us at all! We gave those back so you could redeploy them amongst the humans! Ask ye friend Les for it was he we dealt with. We bartered and bargained with the fairy and nymph folks for our wood and we traded with the humans for some other stuff. We brewed our own beer, bloody freaking hell!"

Rubbing his face wearily, Chris sighed. "Well, I can see how they could interpret…hell, Riley. The pub _does_ seem sort of excessive, don't you think?" Chris decided to lay his cards on the table.

Riley's eyes bugged out, "How we live is no one's business but our own! We lost many fine leprechauns, fairies, nymphs and ogres in this war with Wyatt too! What right do these mortals have to judge us? They are not the only ones who shed blood! If we want to build someplace for us to gather, to remember those who are gone, what does it matter if it's a pub or if it's a bloody grave! It's our tradition!"

"And I'm not saying that you shouldn't remember them in your way," Chris tried to reason with the other man calmly. "But look at it from their point of view. You have the 'haves' and the 'have-nots'. And right now, the humans are distinctly in the 'have-nots' category. Then they see your pub…"

"And what's that suppose to mean?" Riley erupted, clearly outraged.

"Nothing. I just think…I think…a little discretion on your part could avoid all this tension you're feeling. That's all," Chris replied, tiredly.

"Discretion!" Riley bellowed.

"Look," Chris tried to placate the leprechaun who was clearly on the verge of losing his temper, "of course you have the right to –," Abruptly, Chris broke off his pleading to start coughing and hacking. "The…right…," Unable to control himself, the coughs continued to build, interrupting any semblance of Chris' attempt to speak.

"Chris, me lad, are you okay?" As concern for his friend overwhelmed Riley, all thoughts of their argument fled his mind.

"I jussssstt…need…to getttt…sssssome air," Chris wheezed, getting up from his chair to stumble towards the door. Pushing the heavy door open, the fresh air hit Chris like a mack truck, and staggering, he braced himself against the doorframe. Slouching against the side of the entrance, he took deep breaths of the clean, crisp air, slowly gaining control of his breathing.

Following in his wake, Riley asked anxiously, "Are you okay, lad? Do you need me to call for a whitelighter?"

Chris shook his head, dismissing the need for assistance. His voice slightly hoarse from the coughing fit, "Smoking, Riley. I've told you more than once it's not good for your health."

Riley shrugged nonchalantly, "I think I'll take my chances. Luck of the Irish, you know." Riley eyed Chris doubtfully, "You sure you're okay?"

Chris nodded, his eyes closed. "Do you mind if we don't go back in there?"

"Of course not, lad. Besides, I think I've said all I'm going to."

His eyes popping open, Chris threw a questioning look at Riley, "You'll think about what I said?"

Riley sighed, "I always think about what you say, Christopher."

Chris acknowledged the truth in that statement, "I know you do, Riley. Look, if things still seem…tense…in the next couple of weeks, promise me you'll talk to me before you do anything. Okay?"

Riley looked at the young man who he held in such high esteem. Humans, in his experience, were greedy creatures. Besides the risk of exposing magic, most magical folks tended to avoid mortals because of their nature. When the war with Wyatt had broken out, many of his folk had been against joining the Resistance because of this opinion. Riley had persuaded his folk to join with the Resistance because of his belief in the integrity of this human. And though Chris likely owed him more than he owed Chris, Riley was still inclined to grant the request. Chris was asking for very little and Riley knew it. It would cost him little and gain him much, "Very well, lad. You have my word."

Knowing Riley's word was as good as gold, Chris breathed a sigh of relief. Clapping his hand against the leprechaun's shoulder, Chris straightened, "I've got to go. But keep in touch, okay?"

"Okay, lad. Luck of the Irish to you."

Chris grinned, "And you."

And he orbed out, leaving Riley to stand staring thoughtfully at the spot the whitelighter had just been.

* * *

_In the present…_

"Phoebe! There you are!" Elise stuck her head into Phoebe's office.

"Yes, here I am. In my office," Phoebe laughed, weakly. Phoebe thought to herself, _Really, where else would I be?_

"Glad you're back, by the way. You settling in, okay?" Elise asked, as she walked into Phoebe's office.

"Good. Everything's good," Phoebe pointed at her overflowing in-tray. "I really missed this, you know?"

"Well, I'm just glad you're back. We were so lucky that you decided you were ready just when Les suddenly had to leave," Elise smiled, as she sat down into the chair across from Phoebe. "It's too bad I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to him. You made sure he got his payroll stuff sorted out and everything, right?"

"Yeah. And about leaving so suddenly, he really wanted me to tell you he was sorry about that. Family stuff, you know? He really hated leaving without saying goodbye, but he really had to…uh…catch his flight," Phoebe improvised, not wanting Les to leave a bad impression on Elise. Although, when she thought about it, it wasn't like it _really_ mattered, because in all likelihood, Elise would never meet Les again.

"Well, thank goodness he had presence of mind to let you know. I can't imagine what I would have done if neither of you had been around. 'Ask Phoebe' might not have made it to print!" Elise exclaimed. Waving her hand to indicate a change in subject, Elise leaned forward in her chair, "So what do you think of the 'win a date with Phoebe' contest?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes, "I'm kind of taking a break on dating. Besides, you never know who's going to win the contest."

"It's not a real date, Phoebe. It's just some good PR. It could bring in even more readers than we have now. Give them a chance to meet the real you," Elise lectured, looking at her watch. "I've got to go to a meeting. Think about it, okay?"

"All right. I'll think about it. But no promises!" Phoebe yelled at Elise's back as she exited Phoebe's office. Sighing, Phoebe reached into her inbox to read another letter, settling down to do some serious work.

The tinkling of orbs was the only warning sign she got. Dashing across the office, Phoebe leapt for the blinds, yanking on them and turning around just in time to see her baby sister materializing in front of her.

"Paige!" Phoebe yelped.

Rolling her eyes, Paige replied dismissively, "Not you too. One demanding sister is enough, don't you think?"

Ignoring Paige's comments, Phoebe continued her lecture, "Anyone could have seen you! You can't just orb into my office!"

About to retort, Paige groaned again, pressing her hand against her forehead, "And I wouldn't have to if _Piper_ could learn to use the phone, every once and awhile!"

"Piper? Piper sent you to get me? Is everything okay? Is something wrong with the boys? Did a demon attack? Did –,"

"If you'd let me finish – I don't know what's going on. Piper just said to come back to the Manor and to get you on the way," Paige cut off Phoebe's babbling. "So here I am."

"That's not like Piper at all," Phoebe mused.

"Let's just go, please?" Paige pleaded. "Piper's been screaming in my head for fifteen minutes now, and I think my brain's about to explode."

Nodding her agreement, Phoebe locked her office door and grabbed her purse. "Okay, let's go."

Taking Phoebe's hand in hers, Paige rubbed her temple once again before orbing them both away.

* * *

_The Manor…present time_

"You really think this is what you guys want to do?" Paige asked again, for the umpteenth time.

Paige had orbed herself and Phoebe directly from Phoebe's office to the attic, guessing that Piper would be waiting for them there. She hadn't been mistaken. As soon as the two sisters had orbed in, Piper had leapt up from the couch where she had been tapping her foot rather impatiently. Explaining the situation to them, Piper had presented her arguments on why the sisters needed to travel to the future.

"Yes, Paige. Leo and I have thought about this a lot. We need to make sure Chris and Wyatt are okay. That they're doing good," Piper argued with her sister, trying to make Paige see her side. "Don't you want to know that your nephews are okay?"

"Of course I do, Piper!" Paige bit back, a little indignant. "But magic for personal gain always has consequences. You know that!"

Dusting the chalk from his hands, Leo stepped back to admire the triquetra he'd just finished drawing. Turning to join the discussion, Leo watched the three sisters argue, wisely refraining from adding his two cents. Better to sit back and let the sisters sort it out amongst themselves.

"What do you think?" Piper directed her question at Phoebe.

Phoebe shrugged. "Seems like a good idea to me."

"This coming from the sister who had her powers taken away from her because of personal gain!" Paige pointed out emphatically.

Phoebe shrugged again, "She does have a point."

"Thank you!" Paige nodded triumphantly.

"But…I think this is really Piper and Leo's decision. And that we should support them in whatever they decide," Phoebe reasoned. "After all, this is Chris and Wyatt we're talking about."

Seeing the pleading look in Piper's eyes, Paige relented. "All right, all right. If you're sure this is the only way…"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think so," Piper responded softly, her eyes filled with thanks as she looked at both her sisters. "You don't know how much this means to me…to us both…" Looking at Leo for confirmation, he nodded, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Piper's waist.

"Well, that's what sisters are for," Phoebe smiled warmly at Paige, who heaved a sigh in response. "So let's do this!"

"Let's," Piper grinned back, glancing up at Leo who grinned as well. "I've got the spell right here."

"You sure that's going to work?" Paige asked, a little doubtful as she took a quick scan.

"Hey! If you think you can do better, go right ahead," Piper retorted, a little heatedly.

"There are no guarantees with time travel, Paige," Leo took on a lecturing tone. "You know that."

Paige rolled her eyes, "Who's the headmistress of Magic School for Pete's sakes? Just give me that…" Reaching out to snatch the paper out of Piper's hands, she missed as Piper yanked the piece of paper out of her sister's reach. Grumbling, Paige shuffled closer to her sister so she could read the words.

Bracketing Piper from the other side, Phoebe stepped forward as well, her eyes running silently over the spell. "Looks good to me. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Phoebe!" Paige rounded on her sister in horror. "I can't believe you just said that! Now you've jinxed us for sure!"

Phoebe rolled her eyes, "Oh come on, Paige. You honestly don't believe in that kind of stuff, do you?"

"No, but why tempt fate?" Paige shot back.

"Enough!" Piper said sharply. "Hello? Can we please stay focused for a couple of minutes? I'd like to be back home in time to tuck the kids in later, thank you."

"Sorry," Paige mumbled, sheepishly.

"Sorry," Phoebe said brightly, her face innocent.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes childishly, Piper once again brandished the paper in front of the three sisters. Opening their mouths, the three sisters began to read the spell.

The triquetra flared.

* * *

_In the future…_

He slammed the door behind him in frustration. Tossing his notepad onto the nearby table, he grimaced as the pen came loose and rolled across the table's surface and dropped onto the floor. Staring at the offending writing utensil, he debated whether the expended effort to retrieve the bloody thing would be worth it.

It wasn't.

It had been a long day. Up at the crack of dawn, his day had started with meetings upon meetings. Kate, Jenny, Riley…not to mention Darryl and Odin once he had gotten back to base. Office politics, it seemed, had yet to become extinct in the future.

Cursing, Chris pulled at the collar of his shirt, feeling suffocated. As he yanked at the buttons impatiently, he pulled a little too hard and the top button popped off, flying across the room.

"Son of a bitch," Chris signed, resignedly.

Bending over, he brushed his fingertips along the floor, his fingers finding the pen. Tossing it up, he heard the pen land on the table. Still crouched over, he spotted his little plastic button. It had landed against the far leg of the table. Stretching, Chris managed to place his middle finger on it and slid the button towards himself. Within reach, he snatched it up triumphantly and made the mistake of righting himself immediately.

THUD!

"Shit!" Chris hissed, rubbing his head tenderly. Giving the table an evil look, he backed away from it slowly, as if the table were alive instead of the inanimate object he knew it was. Still glaring accusingly at the piece of furniture, he gently placed the button down with his other hand onthe desk behind him.

Walking over to his bookshelf, he paused, wincing as his hand touched a particular sensitive spot on his head. He must have banged his head right on the corner for it to still sting so. He pulled his hand away to take a look, expecting to find blood on his hand.

Instead, he saw something worse.

For a long time, Chris stared at his hand_. This can't be happening_, he thought_. This can't be happening._

Clenching his fist tight, he stormed into the bathroom. Brushing his hands over the trash bin, he then opened the water taps and plunged his hands under the streaming water. He rubbed them vigorously, not daring to look into the mirror positioned above the sink. When the last of the hand soap was washed away, he flicked off the taps and briskly dried them with a nearby towel.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them again, he finally gathered enough courage to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He turned his head this way and that, trying to get a better angle.

Leaning against the sink, he felt his stomach turn. Forcing back the panic threatening to overwhelm him, he reached for his comb. His hands slightly unsteady, he began to carefully comb his hair over the small, bald spot.

Glancing back at the mirror, he felt his stomach unclench.

_Good_, he thought. _You can hardly tell_.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm done ripping off myself, so there shouldn't be anything from _Redundant_ anymore. Lots of questions/guesses about what Chris' illness is…all will be revealed. Just not in this chapter!

Thanks go to: chattypandagurl, Starry Sky 44, mjp3, girl-with-the-green-eyes, Charmed Ravenclaw, Icantthinkofafnick (Chris lost a bit of hair…premature balding sucks, eh?), Sparkling Cherries, and Zeria.

**The End of All Things **

**Chapter 3**

_The Resistance's headquarters…in the future_

Flipping through his journals, Chris was doing some research, hoping to come across a certain entry that he knew he'd written down the information he currently needed.

There had been something Riley had said…

Instead, a date caught his eye – diverting his attention temporarily.

_You don't honestly think you can save the world, do you?_

He smiled to himself, remembering the first acrimonious meeting he'd had with Kate.

Chris snorted. No, that would have been presumptuous…some would say arrogant, even. No, he hadn't thought he could save the world.

But he had thought he could save his brother.

Kate had accused him of being as asshole. Later, she would tell him, _You son of a bitch…what gives you the right to think that you can change the course of history?_

The valkyrie had never been one to mince words. When Wyatt had first begun his domination of the world, the valkyries had been one of the few magical beings Wyatt had left alone. Warriors by nature, and disdainful of what they deemed 'mortal' conflicts, Wyatt had been secure in the knowledge that if he left the formidable clan alone, they would maintain what they called their 'neutral' position.

As the Resistance had gathered their allies deep beneath the city, Chris had known that they needed to get the valkyries on their side. It could mean the difference between winning the conflict or perishing. As one of his first tasks as leader of the Resistance, he had made contact with the valkyries in hopes of persuading them to join the cause.

Kate had been unimpressed to say the least. Oh, it wasn't that the valkyries were unsympathetic, she had explained to Chris. But he had to understand, this was a _mortal_ conflict – it had nothing to do with her or her sisters.

He'd tried another tactic, reminding her that it would only be a matter of time before Wyatt would come after her and her own. If she joined the Resistance now, they would at least all have a fighting chance.

She had remained unconvinced after that first meeting. And the next. And the next. Precious weeks passed as Chris met with the warrior woman again and again, pleading his case. Time wasted as he wooed and courted the valkyries for their alliance, knowing full well the Resistance needed them more than the valkyries needed them. It hadn't mattered; Chris had used every bit of cunning that he had to persuade the valkyries to their side – he'd been ruthless, twisting facts and manipulating intelligence to bring them on side.

It hadn't been one of his finer moments; that was for certain.

Still, guilt was an emotion he was accustomed to; he welcomed it with open arms if it meant furthering his agenda for the Resistance. He was careful not to examine his motives too closely; the war had changed him…made him realize that the idealism his mother had been so fond of waxing was for academics and morality was inconvenient. That didn't mean he didn't care, that he didn't _want_ to do the right thing…

But if he had to tell a couple of lies than so be it.

After experiencing an attack by demons, the valkyries soon realized that even they could not remain neutral forever. Reluctantly, they had formed an uneasy alliance with the Resistance, helping to bulk up their numbers in the scouts. It had been a small victory for Chris.

Over the months, he and Kate had formed a friendship. She had trusted him – extraordinary in of itself as valkyries had a natural mistrust of humans and even more so of the males species. Chris had valued her perspective and her advice – as a valkyrie she had been alive longer than he could have ever imagined and her experience in war and war tactics had proved invaluable.

It was because of this that when Chris had first come up with the idea of going back to the past that he'd approached Kate for her opinion.

She had been stupefied at first. In fact, it had been sort of funny looking at her facial expression, frozen in a mixture of horror, outrage and amazement. At his small snort, Kate had recovered, quickly letting loose a torrent of foul language and expressions, making even _him_ blush from the rather descriptive, anatomical actions she sputtered at him.

"_I didn't even know leprechauns could do that…," he tried to interrupt gently._

"_Shut up," Kate glared angrily at him. "I'm not finished."_

"_You don't have to," Chris replied rather wearily. "I get it. You think it's a bad idea." _

"_No," Kate corrected him, "I think it's a stupid idea. There's a difference."_

"_I need to do this."_

" _You humans. Always so impetuous. You've obviously already made up your mind," she accused. "So what do you want from me?"_

"_I'm going to need your help," Chris explained. "If my plan is going to work. I'm going to need the valkyries in the past to trust me. And I can't tell you why."_

_Kate sighed. "You're asking for a lot, Chris."_

"_I know."_

"_Do you?" she asked rhetorically. Digging into her back pocket, she pulled forth a leather armband and handed it to him. Taking the article from the valkyrie, he studied it, noting the mystical markings on it. He quirked his eyebrow at her in question._

"_The markings are special to valkyries. With that, they'll recognize you as a friend. We never give those away. Ever. Seeing you with one, they'll know to trust you," Kate explained._

"_They won't think I killed one to get it?" Chris asked, wanting to make sure he had all his bases covered._

_Kate shook her head. "The markings, they disappear if the armband isn't 'given.' That's how they'll know. Normally, we only give these to our new sisters. Now I'm giving you one. If you show it to my past self, I should be able to recognize my own handiwork too."_

_He looked up, meeting her eyes gravely, "I don't know how to thank you."_

"_I guess I can accept you saving the world as thanks enough," she cracked, her sarcasm coating her voice._

_"I don't want us parting like this…you're my friend, Kate. Just because we can't agree…" _

"_Go." Kate waved her hand at him tiredly, " Go, before I change my mind. And Chris?"_

_He paused from turning to take his leave, "Yes?"_

"_If you really want to thank me, than behave with honour."_

He looked down at his journal, coming back to reality.

And how had he repaid her? He'd betrayed the trust of the valkyries in the past, stealing a few of her sisters' amulets so the Charmed Ones could enter Valhalla unnoticed.

Suffice to say, _that_ hadn't gone into his journals. Every time he met with Kate, he could feel his guilt suffocating him. Apparently she hadn't made the connection between her missing sisters in the past and himself. Or she chose not to. And he certainly hadn't worked up the courage to confess. After all, what could he say? _Sorry I had to betray your trust and kill a couple of your sisters because ultimately I thought I would save Wyatt and hence save the world? Oh and by the way, in case you didn't realize it, it didn't work._

Chris frowned unhappily. What had he been looking for again?

Cursing his lack of memory, he slammed the journal shut. Standing up abruptly, a wave of dizziness overcame him. Reaching out blindly for the side of the table, Chris leaned heavily against the piece of furniture. He swallowed, tasting the salty bile of his nausea before forcing it back down. He remained motionless for several minutes, waiting for the room to stop spinning. Wiping the back of his hand along his nose, he winced as he saw it come away with a bit of blood. Knowing a full-blown nosebleed was coming on, he quickly shoved himself away from the wooden table, stumbling into the washroom.

He turned the taps on, letting the water run. Splashing his face with cold water, he watched as the water swirled around and disappeared into the sinkhole. As he stood there, his head bent over the sink, weakly grasping the sides of the sink to support himself, he could only grimace at the sight that greeted his eyes. The whirling water was no longer clear…it was a muddy red.

Red from blood.

His.

* * *

Walking briskly through the cold, steel corridors, Les quickly made his way to command central where he knew he would find Darryl waiting for him. Entering the command centre, Les surveyed the room. As before, a group of telepaths manned the communications network, maintaining constant contact with every scout group of the Resistance. It was as if the war had never 'truly' ended. He shook his head; that was unfair – things _had_ changed…subtly. Guards were no longer posted around the operations area for one thing. Yes, there were things that still needed to be accomplished but at least now they could all see the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Darryl," Les cleared his throat hesitantly.

Darryl looked up from the papers he was studying, adjusting the wire rimmed glasses absently as he caught sight of his friend. "Les! Good to see you. We've missed you."

Nodding his head, Les smiled slightly, "Yeah, right. So you going to bring me up to speed?"

Darryl nodded, gesturing at one of the chairs nearby, "First I want to hear about New York."

Les shrugged, "I really don't know what else I can tell you that my weekly report didn't. Work is progressing. We got three of the five power stations up and running again, and the last two should be working by the end of the month. We've got the water plant running at 50 per cent and it should be at a hundred in the next two weeks."

"Good, good," Darryl marked something on one of the pages, making notes as Les brought him up to speed. "What about DJ's team? I heard you met up with them for the last two sites?"

"Didn't DJ bring you up to speed on that? I thought he told me he was going to debrief you as soon as we checked in last night," Les asked, a little worriedly.

Darryl shook his head, "I haven't had a chance to speak with him yet. Things have been pretty hectic around here as we try to get as many generators built and then transported out to everyone who needs them. Electricity is key. We've got to get all the power stations up and running before we can really start rebuilding in earnest."

"Believe me, I know," Les replied, a little sardonically, remembering the week's earlier events.

Darryl arched an eyebrow in Les' direction, "Anything I need to know about?"

Les shook his head, "Nah, just a couple of trouble makers. Where would the world be without them, right?"

Letting the comment slide, Darryl refocused his attention back to the pile of requisition forms, inventory files, and other administrative papers, "Is there anything else?"

Les rubbed the back of his neck wearily; it was funny. During the war with Wyatt, Les had never thought about what needed to be done _after_ they had won. He had figured things would go back to the way they were before. That he and everyone else would be able to step right back into their lives where they had left off. He'd completely ignored the need for infrastructure – hell, he'd assumed that the power would be there, the sanitation department would pick up garbage, the water plants would pump again, and stuff would just, well, sort of, _be there_.

More fool he.

When once he had been the 'go-to-guy' next to Chris and Darryl on strategizing attacks against demons and organizing scouting forays, Les now found himself, more often than not, coordinating with urban planners, engineers and other individuals all in the effort of actually reconstructing. If anything, he found there were even more variables in these post-war planning than any combat plans he had done previously –What were the priorities? Food? Water? Power? Medical supplies? Fuel? What about safety on construction sites? What about tools, machinery and other equipment? Where would they get the natural resources? How would they transport them? Where would they store them until they were needed? How many people were going to be needed to complete the project? Did these people have the skills they needed?

It was a logistical nightmare.

Feeling more than a little out of his depth, Les cleared his throat again nervously, "So did you find a replacement for me?"

Darryl narrowed his eyes, "Look Les, I know you feel like your swimming out of your depth, but we're spread thin as it is. I'm looking, believe me, but it's not enough for your replacement to have technical knowledge. There's more to being a leader than knowing which socket wrench to use."

Les nodded, "I know. I just…I just don't want to make the wrong decision because of my lack of knowledge."

"That's why you have an expert each leading their own team," Darryl explained patiently. "An engineer leads the engineers, the urban planner coordinates the infrastructure, et cetera, et cetera. Yes?"

Sighing, Les drummed his fingers on the table, "Yeah. Yeah, sure." Coughing slightly, Les changed the topic, "Anyways, why don't you tell me why you needed me back here? What couldn't you tell me through our telepaths?"

A shadow passed over Darryl's face; his eyes sliding in the direction of the telepaths seated in the room, Darryl gestured at Les to follow him to the small meeting room, "Follow me."

Getting up from his seat, Les trailed after Darryl inside, taking a seat at the chair behind the desk. Propping his feet up on the desk, Les leaned backed in his chair casually, "So?"

Shutting the door firmly behind them, Darryl turned to face his friend, "We have a problem."

"I kind of figured when you said, 'Get your ass back here now.' What couldn't wait until I was done with NYC?" Les quirked his eyebrow.

Sighing, Darryl didn't meet Les' gaze, "It's Chris."

Les' feet came crashing down from the desk at the tone in Darryl's voice, "What about Chris? I thought…I thought Lilah and Ben were…working…with him." Les' voice took on an accusatory tone, "You told me everything was being looked after."

"Ben stopped by to see me this morning," Darryl shook his head. "They…they don't think they can…do…anything for him."

"Jesus," Les closed his eyes as he blasphemed. Opening his eyes, he looked at Darryl for confirmation, "Are we…certain?"

Swallowing, Darryl nodded. "Yeah."

"I should…need to go see him," Les said tiredly.

"Yeah. I figured you would. That's why I called you back," Darryl gestured at the door. "Go. Tell him I'll stop by later, okay?"

Nodding, his heart heavy, Les left.

_Ah, Chris…why?_

* * *

_Elsewhere, in the Bay area…_

"I thought Chris said Ben was going to stop by…," Jenny Sheridan voiced, her tone doubtful.

"Darryl said he got tied up with an emergency…and Darryl knew you wanted this done ASAP. Not to worry, I've done this spell before. We would have told you but…" Duncan shrugged as his voice trailed off.

Communications from Sheridan and her group had been spotty – the telecommunications network destroyed during the war still offline. The inhabitants had declined Chris' offer to have a telepath on site; instead, runners were sent back and forth for information updates, meaning it was sometimes days before messages were received.

Sheridan was unable to meet Duncan's eyes, "Yeah. Sorry about that. It's just…people feel more comfortable without…"

"Our presence," Duncan finished, his tone dry. "So I've heard…"

The two former allies were currently standing in a partially restored office building. The Bay area had been one of the most heavily hit during the war with Wyatt due to its proximity to Wyatt's then stronghold. The trickling arrival of supplies coupled with the total decimation of the area was slowing the heavy refortification and rebuilding efforts significantly. He kept his thoughts to himself, but Duncan knew it was foolish of Sheridan and the others to rebuild on such a hot spot – some of the ruins were still smouldering and probably would for years to come. _If it had been me, I would have picked a nice piece of beachfront property…_

"That should do it," Duncan said briskly, gathering up his things. He eyed the former inspector with a raised eyebrow. "Looks like you can breathe easily once again without fear that one of us will pop by unexpectedly."

Sheridan nodded, ignoring the sarcasm in the witch's voice, "Mind telling me what the radius is on this thing?"

"The dead zone? The spell extends just past the city walls," Duncan indicated the heavy fortifications currently under construction around the Bay area city. "This isn't like the one that was around the Resistance's HQ. Chris specifically told me to keep it to the city limits."

Sheridan's eyebrows shot up in irritated astonishment, "He did, did he?"

Duncan shrugged. "Chris wanted to make sure the Resistance could still get here as quickly as possible, just in case…while still granting you your request."

"How magnanimous of him," Sheridan snipped.

"Actually, I rather think it is," Duncan leapt to the defence of his friend quickly, annoyed with the former inspector's attitude. "He could of easily denied your request."

Sheridan snorted, "Not if he didn't know what was good for him." She sighed, noticing Duncan's facial expression, "Don't give me that look. I didn't mean it that way."

"Really?" Duncan's voice was full of scepticism. He crossed his arms in front of him, "So what way _did_ you mean it?"

Another sigh emanated from the older woman. "Chris needs to wake up. Things can't go back to the way they were before. People know about magic…about demons. And they're scared. People are scared of things they don't understand and they certainly don't understand magic. Can you blame them?"

"I can if they group us with the demons," Duncan snapped back, completely unsympathetic. "We risked our lives for you!"

"And that's exactly my point!" Sheridan pointed out. "You said 'we.' You obviously don't consider yourselves one of us. And maybe…maybe we don't either."

"Are you kidding me?" Duncan stared at the woman in astonishment. "Last time I checked, I was still part of the human race!"

"And I'm not saying you aren't," Sheridan's voice soothed. "But look at it from my standpoint…people are _scared_, Duncan. Of magic. It doesn't matter if it's good or bad. To them…it's all the same thing."

"This is ridiculous…people weren't scared of us when they looked to us for protection from Wyatt!"

"Because they didn't have a choice!" Sheridan quickly returned.

"So you're telling me if they had a choice, they wouldn't have trusted us to help against Wyatt?" Duncan looked completely confused.

"Look Duncan, what's done is done. The important thing is to concentrate on the future," Sheridan said, wearily. "Right now, all I care about is making sure people feel safe so they can just get on with their lives."

"Fine," Duncan nodded, curtly. He didn't want to pursue the argument any further either. "Anything else you need?"

A new voice interrupted, "How about those supplies you keep promising us?"

Duncan turned his head towards the newcomer. The man, who appeared to be in his late forties, was average looking with a slight paunch. Wearing a trucker hat and a five o'clock shadow, there was nothing notable about him except the belligerent look in his dull brown eyes.

"The supplies are on their way," Duncan replied, evenly, aware of the tension in the air.

The man's chin jutted out, "Yeah? Funny. That's what you assholes said last week."

"Jeremiah…enough," Sheridan warned. "I've got this under control. Just go let the others know that the no-orbing spell is in place."

Jeremiah shot Duncan a look full of disgust before saying, "You freaks make me sick. I know all about you idiots giving those damn dirty leprechauns a pub. A pub for god's sakes! While people here are still looking for shelter!"

"Look, I don't know what you've heard –," Duncan tried to explain.

"Save it!" Jeremiah cut off Duncan's reply. "I've had just about all I can take from you turkeys." Giving Sheridan a curt nod, "You'd best escort him off the premises if you don't want anything to happen to him."

As the man walked away, Duncan turned his gaze towards Sheridan, asking quietly, "Is that a threat?"

"Let's just say it's an…observation, Duncan," Sheridan said tiredly. Motioning Duncan to follow her, "Regardless, Jeremiah's right. He's not the only one who's feeling a little shafted around here. It's best I escort you to the border. Let's go."

Frustrated, Duncan ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly, "Just what is the problem here? Aren't we all in this together? Hell, Sheridan – I can't remember the number of missions I worked on with you. I would think after all we've been through, you'd trust me enough know I'm on your side. Are you telling me it was all an act?"

Sheridan continued to walk, leading Duncan through the winding streets of the devastated city. Everywhere they looked, it was crowded with people, all involved with some kind of repair work. The sound of jackhammers, drills and other construction noises polluted the air, adding to the sense of confined chaos. "Duncan, you know I respect you and Chris. But I have to represent those I'm responsible for. And right now, like it or not, people are angry."

Duncan sighed, trying not to cringe at the glares he was receiving from some of the workers who paused in their repairs as he passed. "I'm definitely not liking it. Why do I get the nasty feeling that these people are looking for someone to blame and that someone is going to be me?"

An uncomfortable look briefly crossed Sheridan's face, "People are frustrated. But I've got it under control. Duncan…you have to trust me."

Stifling another sigh, Duncan muttered, "It's not you I don't trust…"

"What's that?" Sheridan raised her voice over the noisy street.

Arriving at the edge of city, the two stopped in front of the tall city wall. Already the city fortifications were quickly surrounding the city. With the no-orbing spell now in place, soon the only way in and out of the city would be through gates placed in strategic locations along the city walls. It uncomfortably reminded Duncan of medieval times. Shaking his head slightly, he didn't bother repeating himself, "I've got to go…"

Sheridan nodded. Holding her hand out, she said seriously, "Thanks, Duncan."

Without hesitation, Duncan clasped the older woman's hand, "Your welcome. Just…remember. I'm on your side." Looking over his shoulder, he saw blue orbs forming just outside the gates. "Looks like my ride is here."

A small crowd behind Sheridan had gathered, watching the witch and their leader. Suspicious glances were shooting amongst the group, seemingly directed at the newcomer. Ignoring the niggling in his brain, Duncan stepped towards the whitelighter, nodding one last time at Sheridan. "See you."

Oblivious to the crowd behind her, Jenny Sheridan's mouth quirked into a small smile, "See you."

Glancing at his ride, Duncan gestured, "Back to base." The whitelighter nodded, placing her arm on his, dissolving the both into a cloud of blue orbs.

And as the two orbed out, Duncan thought he heard…

_Good riddance…_

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Lilah asked, pressing her hand to Chris' forehead.

"Fine," Chris said, a touch short, jerking his head away from the whitelighter. Sarcasm dripped from his tongue, "Why? How do you _think_ I'm feeling?"

Standing back for a moment, the whitelighter cast her eye over Chris, noting his appearance. The circles under his eyes clearly indicated that he hadn't been sleeping, but otherwise he seemed perfectly healthy. "You look tired."

"I _feel_ tired," Chris grumbled. Balling up the blood soaked handkerchief, he lobbed it into the air, watching it land perfectly in the nearby trash bin.

Ben hovered on the edge, agitated. "We've told you, Chris. You need to take it easy."

Chris sighed. "I know. And I will. Right after I know things are in place and the rebuilding efforts are well underway."

Opening her mouth to argue, Lilah began, "Chris –,"

A knock on the door interrupted the whitelighter before she could complete her thought. The slightly ajar door was pushed open further as a familiar head poked itself around, "Chris? You in here?"

Smiling tiredly at his friend, Chris waved Les in, "Les. Thank God you found me. Maybe you could convince these two quacks to let me out of here without another lecture."

Studying his friend surreptitiously, Les could see Chris was pale but not alarmingly so, "So what are you doing here in the infirmary?"

Hopping down from his perch on the counter, Chris shrugged, "I'll tell you on the way back to my quarters." Looking at Ben and Lilah who were both eyeing him in displeasure, "I'll catch up with you both later? I really need Les to fill me in on the situation."

Sighing Lilah waved her hand in reluctant acceptance, saying only, "Come see me right away if you have any more nose bleeds...or any…other problems."

Ben grimaced, "You know what I think." Glancing at his watch, "Shit! I've got a meeting I've got to get to. Les – I want to catch up with you too. Dinner later?"

Les grinned as Ben swiftly moved towards the door. "Yeah. I'll see you in the mess hall around seven," he called out as Ben's form disappeared around the corner.

Nodding their goodbyes, Chris and Les took their leave from Lilah, with Chris promising to search out Lilah at the first sign of any more nosebleeds. The two friends set a leisurely pace, exiting the infirmary and strolling along the halls towards Chris' quarters.

"You want to fill me in on NYC?" Chris asked, as they walked along.

"Nothing to write home about. I filled in Darryl and filed a report. Long story short – things seemed to be going well," Les shrugged absently. "What about you? How was your meeting with _Inspector_ Sheridan?"

Shooting Les a dirty look, Chris replied, "Don't call her that, okay? It's creepy enough as it is for me to deal with people I've dealt with in the past. Let's not drag up old history, okay? And the meeting was…interesting."

"Yeah? How so?" Les asked, nodding at familiar faces they passed in the hall. Half paying attention to Chris, Les gestured at his friends that he'd catch up with them later.

Crossing the huge rotunda, the pair took the corridor to the right, where the new living quarters were. Though many of the humans had left, some still remained behind, seeing the common sense to remain where food, shelter and relative comfort was readily available. However, because so many families had left up world, Chris had consolidated the living quarters of both the Resistance fighters and the families they protected into one wing. This had allowed him to shut down the area where most of the Resistance fighters had been housed previously and freed up one of the major power generators. It was _that_ generator that had gone to NYC.

"I'm not sure," Chris hesitated. Though he and Sheridan had never been…friends…per se, they did have a mutual understanding. Something in his conversation with her had flicked a switch on in Chris' brain…

Losing interest in the topic, Les shrugged, "I'm sure she was her usual charming self."

Unconvinced, Chris replied thoughtfully, "I guess…"

Arriving at Chris' new quarters, Les waited patiently as Chris unlocked the wooden door. Following his friend inside, Les looked around in curiosity. He hadn't been to Chris' new quarters as he had left for NYC just before the move. Two very tall bookshelves crammed with books occupied the entire side of one wall. A neatly made bed complete with hospital corners was situated against the far wall. A square table sat in the middle of the room and to Les' right, a small work area with a rather untidy paper-littered desk and chair sat flush against the side.

Pulling the chair over, Les sat down in reverse fashion, letting his arms rest on the back of the chair as he looked over at Chris. "Nice place."

Not amused, Chris stood in front of his bookshelves, his back to Les, as he began to rummage through the many books. "Seriously…how was New York? How many months before they're completely up and running?"

Frustrated, Les ran his hand through his hair, "Two, maybe? Three? I'm not sure. At least the water filtration plants are up and almost running at full tilt. I'm just worried about food and housing."

"Yeah, well, we do what we can," Chris sighed. "We're still on strict rations here too. By the way, I met with Kate as well while you were away."

"And just how is my favourite valkyrie?"

Chris tilted his head to read the titles on the spines of the books as he searched for the one he was looking for. "She's good. Her sisters are good. Valhalla seems to have gotten through the war relatively unscathed."

"Too bad we can't say that for most of the human cities," Les sighed. Watching Chris carefully, he prompted, "So you never answered me."

"Sorry?" Chris mumbled, as finding the book he wanted, he placed his index finger on the top of its spine, edging it out towards him.

"Why you were in the infirmary," Les reminded his friend patiently.

Still with his back to his friend, Chris shrugged, flipping open the book in hand, "Nosebleed. All that hot air up world. Guess I'm a little too used to our climate controlled base."

"Haha," Les replied, rather sourly. "Chris – I talked to Darryl. He told me about –,"

Slamming the book shut, he whirled on Les, cutting off what his friend was about to say, hissing, "Don't. Don't say it."

Les tried one last time, "We should really talk about it…"

"There's nothing to talk about," Chris replied bitterly. "Let's just stay focused, okay?"

Seeing the steely determination in Chris' eyes, Les relented rather reluctantly, "Okay." Given Chris' hostility, Les decided a change in subject was necessary. However, in the back of his mind, Les resolved to return to _that_ topic soon. "Oh – I mentioned to Darryl…there seemed to be a little…trouble at one of the towns."

Narrowing his eyes at Les, Chris crossed his arms, "Define trouble."

Les shrugged. "I'm sure I'm just overreacting…"

"Les," Chris said warningly.

"Some trouble makers. They accused the Resistance of keeping all the supplies for themselves, that sort of stuff. Ingratitude, if you ask me," Les sniffed.

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, "Sheridan thinks we should carry identification cards."

"What?" Les blinked at Chris blankly, bewildered at the seemingly unrelated topics.

"Identification cards. That would 'identify' us as magical beings on the side of good," Chris shook his head in amazement. "She thinks it will help the general populace feel safer."

"How does that make them feel safer?" Les asked sceptically. "Hell, it's not like a demon is going to pull out a card and say, 'hey, I'm one of the bad guys. Please vanquish me.' That's got to be the stupidest idea I've heard yet."

"Believe you me, I think it's a stupid idea as well," Chris rolled his eyes. "But that, along with the incident you experienced and the valkyries being worried, and some other incidents popping up…is making me…jumpy."

"Huh? The valkyries are worried too?" Les looked puzzled. "How are these things connected?"

"They aren't. And that's what worries me."

* * *

To be continued…  
(I'll be without access to a computer for three weeks, so the next update won't be for awhile…sorry!) 


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Anyone miss me?

**Thanks go to:** Starry Sky 44, Charmed Ravenclaw, chattypandagurl, Twisted Flame, mjp3, and IcantthinkofaFnick. You guys are the reason why I continue to write…

**

* * *

The End of All Things**

**Chapter 4**

_The Bay area…in the future_

Glancing at his watch, he looked again at closed gates in front of him. _One minute more_, Les thought. _If she doesn't show up in sixty seconds…_

_I wonder what would happen if I closed my eyes for just a moment_, Les thought wearily. The third week on his new 'job' as second in command and already he was exhausted. To his great surprise, Chris had decided to 'step back' from his position as leader of the Resistance, delegating most of the day to day responsibilities to Darryl. Les had known Chris was ill, but still…

Like Les had assumed Darryl's responsibilities, Darryl, in turn, had undertaken Chris' responsibilities, although very reluctantly. They were in transition; and with it, came numerous obstacles – the first being trust issues. One of Chris' strengths as leader of the Resistance had been his contacts with various magical beings far and wide. It had been one of the reasons the Resistance had come together so well; magical beings, in general, were naturally mistrustful of humans. Chris, with his heritage as the son of the Charmed Ones, along with his own natural integrity, was one of the few humans the magical beings respected. Most of the time, they merely tolerated the existence of mortals, avoiding them at all costs. It had been Chris who had cajoled and coaxed even the most reluctant of the magical community from their neutrality to join their efforts against Wyatt.

And now that Chris was visibly stepping back from his role in the Resistance, the rumour mill was running overtime and suspicion was rampant.

It was a no win situation. Just yesterday, Riley, who spoke for the leprechaun and fairy community, had already expressed displeasure that his regularly scheduled meetings with Chris would no longer continue for the foreseeable future. He had scoffed at Darryl's offer to step in, convinced that Darryl would be unable to provide an objective counterpoint. He suspected Darryl of being naturally prejudiced against 'their kind' and subtly accused Darryl of siding with the humans on matters such as territory, rights and freedoms.

The valkyries were not impressed either; thoroughly suspicious of humans and of the male gender in particular, only Chris' longstanding relationship with them had won them over in the beginning of the war efforts. With Chris effectively absent from the leadership group, the warrior women were impatient, suspicious and in some cases, openly hostile with what they felt was a leadership coup by the mortals with Darryl usurping Chris' position.

On the mortal front, humans, riled up by the supposed favouritism they believed the Resistance was fostering with the magical beings, were beginning to become more and more demanding. Explanations of supply issues and fairness in dealing with all communities, magical or otherwise, were sneered at. _What did magical beings need so many supplies for?_ the humans would question. _They could conjure up whatever they required. It was the mortals that were in need, and it was the mortals that should be catered to!_

This delicate balance of satisfying all parties in an open and transparent manner was giving Darryl a migraine and Les significant frustration. Chris, in the meantime, was disinclined to provide further explanation to all parties, as Darryl insisted he should, saying merely, it was no one's business on the reason for his stepping down but his own.

And it was only week three.

Resolving to speak with Chris again about the situation, Les looked down at his notes. He'd had to dispatch a scout team this morning to mediate a dispute between mortals and the wood nymphs. The dispute was over a body of fresh water, which clearly lay in the wood nymphs' territory. In a nearby town, the humans had gathered up huge plastic containers, intent on pumping the water supply dry. It had been a tense situation; neither side willing to budge an inch. Only through Duncan's fast-talking had the team been able to diffuse the potentially volatile situation.

The alarming part of it all was that similar disputes were breaking out across the country. Where once mortals and magical beings had worked together, it appeared with the threat of mutual annihilation gone, those who were once friends were fast approaching to becoming enemies.

On top of all that, demons were still on the loose. The Resistance, with its reduced numbers, and more and more of the humans and magical beings deserting everyday to resume their past lives, was stretched to a fray. At one fifth of its original size, only the witches remained, barely able to provide the protection demanded by the humans and logistical support demanded by all.

And then there was the truly frustrating of all – the mundane. The Elders, clueless and obviously involved in their own world, had demanded a council meeting to change the name of the Resistance. They were no longer the Resistance anymore, Odin had argued, now that Wyatt had been defeated. They needed a name change to _"better reflect their new responsibilities and activities."_

Half sarcastically, Darryl had suggested they name the new operation 'Witches and Humans Acting Together.' Odin had responded enthusiastically, until he had realized the acronym spelled 'what.' As Les had guffawed in the background and Lilah had tittered, Odin had stalked out of the room, refusing to return until Darryl 'took him seriously.'

Les snorted to himself in disgust, thinking,_ bunch of bureaucrats, _when a throat cleared rather loudly, distracting him.

The woman frowned at him unhappily, "Where's Chris?"

"Nice to see you too," Les returned, rather sardonically.

Emitting a noise that clearly showed her irritation with his response, Sheridan raised her right eyebrow, "Not funny. Don't give up your day job, okay? I was expecting Chris. This is important."

Les immediately sobered, "He wasn't feeling well. He asked me to come in his place. You know you can deal with me."

Sheridan continued to frown at her visitor, "Yes, but I _trust_ Chris."

Exasperated, Les threw his arms into the air helplessly, "Well, you can either discuss whatever you had to discuss with Chris with _me_, or you can wait for him to get better. And God only knows when that will be."

"I waited three weeks for the runner to send the message to you and get back with a response," Sheridan tossed her hair over one shoulder as she abruptly turned on her heel to head back into the now open gate. "I'm certainly not waiting another three. Follow me." Without another word, the former inspector set a quick pace towards the city centre, leaving Les to trail in her wake. As he nipped inside the city walls behind her, Les heard the loud creaking as the mechanics of the gate grinded, effectively locking him in behind the thick steel doors.

Breaking into a slight jog to catch up with the trim figure in front, Les could see in his peripheral vision faces peering out from behind windows and doors as he passed by. Up ahead, Sheridan had already arrived at the former city hall, her foot impatiently tapping against the pavement as she waited for Les to catch up. Closing the last few metres between them, Les tossed a final look over his shoulder sensing that he was being watched, though he saw no one behind him. He shivered slightly, though unsure whether it was from the slight breeze or the feeling that he wasn't exactly welcomed.

"Are the locals always this friendly?" Les joked, though the strain in his voice was apparent.

Sheridan sighed, closing the door behind them. Leading the way towards one of the meeting rooms, she shrugged. "I'm sorry. People are just…on edge."

Les looked at his companion rather sceptically, "Duncan told me you didn't exactly roll out the red carpet when he was here a couple weeks back, either."

Jenny rubbed her temple wearily, "I'll tell you exactly what I told Chris and Duncan before. People are scared. Scared of magic. And you have it, so obviously, people are scared of you."

"Well it's not obvious to me," Les shot back. "It's not like I'm going to eat their babies or something!"

Jenny rolled her eyes, "Now you're being irrational."

Les blinked in disbelief, "These people are afraid of me, one of the guys who risked their lives for you, and you say _I'm_ irrational?"

"Look, I called you, or rather Chris, here today, because this is exactly what I wanted to talk about," Jenny pointed out. "Have you thought about getting those ID cards yet?"

Les shook his head adamantly, "We took it to the council. They, as I do, thought it was a foolish idea. However, if it will truly make you feel safer, we're willing to do it."

Jenny closed her eyes in relief, "Thank you. I know it seems like a stupid idea to you, but believe me, it will go a long way in reassuring my group, especially the extremists, that you guys are on our side."

"How can there be any doubt?" Les glared. "For christ's sake. I lost friends _and_ family in the war. How can you even doubt my intentions?"

"It's not you I doubt Les," Jenny soothed. "But look at it from our perspective, okay? Put yourselves in our shoes for just a minute. Magic was something we were taught from birth that didn't exist. It existed only in fairy tales or old wives' tales. And then, suddenly, we get knocked off our feet - our first exposure to it was from Wyatt. Before we've even had a chance to digest that magic exists, we're running for our lives. Can you really blame these people for being a little bit cautious now that they've had a chance to think about it?"

Running his hand tiredly through his hair, Les sighed, "I guess not." Taking a deep breath, "Is that it?"

Shaking her head, Jenny chose a chair and waved her hand indicating for Les to take a seat as well. "No. That was the easy part."

"Easy?" Les' eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Do I really want to hear this?"

"No," Jenny smirked just a bit. "Remember, I _did_ send for Chris."

"Don't remind me," Les groaned, pretending to slump in his chair in defeat.

"Before we get into that though, that reminds _me_ – what _is_ exactly wrong with Chris?" Jenny's forehead creased in concern.

Les shrugged, his eyes eyeing the floor evasively, "No idea. He hasn't deigned to share with me."

Jenny eyed the witch sceptically, "Somehow I doubt that." As she continued to watch Les squirm under her penetrating gaze, she snorted, "Fine. I assume you'd tell me if it was something serious?"

Again, Les made sure he kept his expression carefully blank, "He's just feeling a little under the weather. You know he took Wyatt's death hard. He was, after all, Chris' brother."

"I see," Jenny replied gruffly. "Tell him…tell him, I hope he feels better soon."

Les inclined his head silently in assent.

Clearing her throat delicately, Jenny affixed her unnerving stare on Les, "We need to talk."

"Isn't that what we're doing?" Les joked weakly, quickly sobering at Jenny's withering glare. "All right. Spit it out. You obviously have something on your mind."

"The valkyries. They've got access to clean water and other natural resources that we could really use," Jenny began.

"Which belong to them!" Les cut her off cleanly. "Valhalla has belonged to the valkyries since the beginning of time – surely you don't expect them to give up their homes for you!"

"Of course not," Jenny snapped back. "What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, was we wanted to have someone negotiate with them on our behalf. Surely we have something of value they would want to trade for. It's why I sent for Chris – I know he has a relationship with them…they trust him."

Les frowned, "I'm not sure you would have anything to offer them. They live very simply."

Jenny rolled her eyes, "Well, we aren't going to know unless we ask. And right now they've got access to something we desperately need."

"You have the allotment of supplies from the Resistance!" Les protested.

Jenny shook her head, "It's not enough. We need to rebuild, fast. If we're willing to trade, why do you care?"

Les sighed, "Fine. I'll see what I can do. But honestly, Chris is the one with the connections. I'm not sure I'll be able to get the valkyries to talk even to me."

"Which is why I asked Chris to come in the first place!" Jenny pointed out, rather exasperatedly.

Les acknowledged the truth of the statement with a slight bow of his head, "So…anything else on your mind?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," Jenny looked at Les straight in the eye. "What the hell is this I hear about some damned pub those leprechauns wasted precious materials on building?"

Les shook his head, "I don't know anything about that."

Jenny searched Les' face suspiciously, before she relented, "I want to know if it's true. If it is, then I want to know why. You get your ass back to Chris and find out. Sick or no sick, if I find out it's true, I'm kicking his sorry ass clear across this country. I've got mouths to feed and sick to care for. If one _twig_ from the resource allotment went into a pleasure house for those drunkards, there'll be hell to pay."

Blanching slightly at the threat in Jenny's voice, Les rose to take his leave, "Got it. Pub bad, ass kicked. I'll be in touch once I find out from Chris."

As Les began to leave, Jenny called out after him, "You know, this all could have been avoided if Chris had just come to meet me instead."

Without bothering to answer, Les merely waved his hand in goodbye. _Don't I know it…_

* * *

Covering his mouth, doubled over with pain, Chris continued to hack and cough. He looked up to see Lilah watching him patiently, her face full of sympathy.

"Stop looking at me like that," he growled, a little unfairly.

"Like how?" Lilah murmured, placing her hands over his chest, focusing on the soft golden glow as she healed him as much as she could. _God, I hate seeing him so weak, _she thought.

They were in Chris' quarters; Chris was sitting on the couch and Lilah was seated next to him. On the table, various needles and medicines littered its surface. Nearby, a trash receptacle was filling quickly with discarded empty bottles.

"Like I'm some injured puppy," Chris pushed the whitelighter's hands away as another coughing fit overcame him. Wiping his mouth with the white cloth as soon as the fit died down, she winced, noticing the fresh blood spattered lightly across it.

"I wasn't aware I was looking at you in any particular way," Lilah replied smoothly, placing her hands on his back instead, letting the healing power work its way through her to Chris.

Chris rolled his eyes, openly daring her to contradict him, "Oh please. I saw the expression on your face." His pitched his voice an octave higher, clearly attempting to mimic Lilah's voice mockingly, "Poor Chris. Why is this happening to him?"

Knowing Chris' pride was causing him to lash out at her, Lilah responded evenly, "I think we both know why this is happening to you. My concern is that you get better."

Sighing, his energy exhausted by the coughing fits and subsequent emotional outburst, Chris laid back on the couch, his throat raw and hoarse, saying only, "That's enough for now."

Opening her mouth to protest, Lilah's mouth snapped shut at Chris' steely-eyed glare. Sighing, she removed her hands from his back, "Chris – it's getting worse. Don't be so impatient. Of course it's going to take more time for me to…help you."

"It doesn't matter."

She sighed again, getting up to cross the room and picking up one of the fresh needles, "At least let me give you something for the pain." Turning to face him, she watched as he grimaced, nodding reluctantly. In the beginning, he had vetoed the painkillers, claiming he couldn't think straight with his body full of chemicals. However, in the last couple of days, he had reneged on this protest, indicating to Lilah just how bad his condition was worsening.

Giving the needle a quick tap to make sure the bubbles were gone, she walked over to Chris, perching on the end of the couch's arm. He rolled up his sleeve, letting Lilah tie the elastic strap around his upper arm. Testing the syringe, she met his green eyes before focusing on finding his vein. Slapping his arm slightly, she silently handed him an empty pill bottle to wrap his fist around to form a ball. Swabbing the area with alcohol, she quickly inserted the needle into Chris' arm, releasing the liquid from the syringe. Carefully keeping hold of the needle, she untied the strap before finally removing the now empty needle. It was pure luck that Lilah's former occupation before becoming a whitelighter was a nurse.

His eyes were focused on something behind her and he said naught a word during the entire process. Letting the painkillers do its work, Lilah busied herself with cleaning up the table.

A hoarse whisper greeted her ears, "How long?"

Choosing to misinterpret the question, Lilah replied briskly, pretending to be engrossed in tidying up, "The pain killer should wear off in about eight hours. You're developing a resistance to them so I've been upping the dosage to get you the same effect. I won't be able to continue to increase it any more."

Silence. And then, "That wasn't what I meant."

"I know," Lilah said softly. Her back still to the young man, she felt her eyes prick with tears. "I…I don't know. Soon. I think." She waited for him to lash out at her, at the unfairness of it all, bracing herself to offer him small comfort and the hope that she had no right to offer.

But instead, she got the unexpected.

"Thanks."

Whipping around in astonishment, she met his green eyes in bewilderment and disbelief, "For what?"

Chris smiled crookedly, "For being honest with me. Everyone else keeps telling me it's going to be okay. You don't know how irritating that can get after awhile."

Feeling the tears flooding her eyes, she struggled to hold onto her composure, "I wish…I wish…"

Chris shook his head, "No recriminations, Lilah. No regrets. What's done is done. What is, is."

Her smile was watery, "When'd you get so philosophical?"

"I always…I knew there'd be a chance…," Chris' voice trailed off. "There's always a price to pay for personal gain."

_But not this price!_, Lilah screamed in her head. _Not this!_

Chris chuckled, his black humour asserting itself, "Kind of funny actually. All those times I'd lectured mom and her sisters on personal gain consequences in the past. I guess karma really does come around."

"No," Lilah whispered, heart broken.

His eyes were a luminous green as they met hers. "It's okay, Lilah. Really it is. I've made my peace with it. And so should you."

She drew her breath in, shaken; her voice was bitter. "I don't…I don't _want_ to. I don't want to _make peace with it_."

His smile held a trace of pity, "You have nothing to feel guilty about."

"Nothing to feel guilty about?" Lilah protested. "I'm your whitelighter. Your friend. If anyone can heal you, it should be me." Her voice died to a whisper, "I should be able to heal you."

Chris shrugged matter of fact, "And I should have saved Wyatt. We can't always know what the future has in store. Perhaps it's fate."

Knowing full well his opinion on fate, she gave him an evil stare, sniffling, "Haha. Aren't you the funny one today."

He said simply, "I try."

Unable to think of anything to say, Lilah moved to sit next to her friend. Cautiously, she reached for his hand, lest he reject her offer of comfort. When he didn't pull away, she felt encouraged, pulling it into her lap as they both stared straight ahead, each lost in their own thoughts. For a long time, they sat there, his hand limp in hers.

She felt his hand slowly grasp hers, threading his fingers through hers.

She gave it a comforting squeeze.

_Oh, Chris… _

* * *

The meeting with Sheridan hadn't gone well, but at least he had finished some paper work. _So the day wasn't a complete waste_, Les thought ruefully.

Looking up at the knock on his door, he motioned for the individual to enter. Not recognizing the woman in front of him, he merely raised his eyebrow in question.

The young woman, a brunette, put a package of paper in front of him. She pointed at the bottom of the page, and in a no nonsense manner, "Requisition order for water filtration equipment to be installed at the LA site."

Trying not to sigh, Les squinted at the page. Not understanding a thing written on it, he asked defeated, "Just tell me where to sign."

Her mouth quirking slightly, the young woman reached across the desk, leaning forward to put her finger next to an 'x'. "If you could just sign there, please." As Les provided his signature, the woman began to flip through the pages, indicating with her index finger, "And your initials here, here, here and here."

Done, he handed back the papers to the woman. "That was worse than my first mortgage."

Letting out a tinkling laugh, the woman waved goodbye and exited the office.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Les wondered if he could sneak out. 7PM. If he left now, he would be able to catch the last round of hot food for dinner in the mess hall. Feeling sheepish, he rose from his desk, ready to make his way from the command centre. Cautiously peeping his head out, he felt a sigh of relief as he noticed the telepaths at the communications net were engrossed in their duties. Padding softly towards the exit, Les held his breath. He placed his hand on the door, ready to push it open and make his escape.

"Shit!"

_Damn_, Les thought, before turning back reluctantly, _what now?_

One of the telepaths was clutching his head, his eyes closed and his face wrinkled in concentration. "Message from sector nine. They're detecting heightened magical activity."

"What do you mean, heightened?" Les asked, anxiously, rushing back into the room.

"I don't know…" the man shook his head. "They're not sure. But the crystals the team set as alarms are going crazy."

"What's out there?" Les demanded, worried. "Civilians?"

The telepath paused, clearly waiting for a response, "Small town. Population 1,000. But the team's about three hours away from the town where the alarm set off and they don't have a whitelighter with them to orb there. It's one of those towns that weren't fully swept before the town moved back."

Les cursed the town's people for their impatience, "Damn. Could be demons. Okay, get me a whitelighter to meet me in the great hall. I want to orb there, pronto."

The telepath blinked in surprise, "Just you?"

"Yes, just me," Les growled. "If it looks like it's going to be a situation, I'll call for back up. I _am_ a telepath."

The man muttered, "Just checking."

Les sighed. "I know. Thanks for asking. Now did you get me that whitelighter?"

The other man nodded, "There's one finishing up in sector eight. He should be orbing in any minute."

Nodding in satisfaction, Les clapped his colleague lightly on the shoulder, "Good man. Okay, you know where to reach me if you need me."

* * *

Concentrating on keeping her stomach contents down, Piper crossed through the triquetra. No matter how many times she and her sisters had travelled through time, she had never, repeat _never_, gotten use to her stomach dropping out from her.

Stumbling forward, Piper barely gave her new surroundings a cursory glace, instead trying to get her bearings. Giving in to temporary weakness, she bent over, taking slow, deep, even breaths. Behind her, she felt Leo's hand rub her back reassuringly, and clutching onto his arm, she hauled herself upwards.

"You okay?" Leo asked, his face full of worry.

Nodding curtly, she glanced behind to make sure her sisters were okay. Phoebe seemed to be the most out of it, stumbling drunkenly around before catching hold of Paige's arm to steady herself. Paige seemed remarkably fine, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened and was already busy studying the skyline.

"Do you think we did it?" Paige asked doubtfully. "I mean, when and where do you think we are?"

"No idea. Doesn't matter – no time to worry about that now. We need to find Chris and Wyatt – now." Phoebe insisted, her head still spinning.

Piper nodded. "But where do we start?"

Paige pointed at a black dot in the distance, "Well, how about there?"

* * *

She glanced up at the sun, noting the late hour. The sky was a haze of red and orange, the humidity in the evening air creating a red ring around the sun. Dusk had arrived and the night was fast approaching.

She sighed again, barely containing the urge to tap her foot impatiently. She kept her hands at her sides, her sword, tucked away in its sheath, easily within reach. Annoyed now, she called out impatiently, "Zankou! Where the hell are you?"

The sound of the demon flaming in accompanied with the brilliant orangey red of the fire appeared in front of her. He smiled gamely at the valkyrie, "Good evening, Kate. So nice of you to meet with me."

She eyed the demon uncertainly, "I'm telling you once and for all, the valkyries will _not_ join you."

"But you haven't even heard my terms," Zankou said smoothly. "We have a mutual…problem."

"Which would be?" Kate asked sceptically.

"Humans," Zankou shrugged. "We both know that since magic's been exposed, the humans have been leery of all magical beings, demons or otherwise. I don't know about you, but the greedy little things are trying to push us back into the underworld, claiming that above ground is _their_ territory."

Kate was unsympathetic, "And so it is."

"But we don't like being trapped down there. We like being able to roam the earth," Zankou's voice was soft and persuading. "Why should we be relegated to beneath it?"

Kate's right eyebrow rose dramatically, pointing out the obvious, "Because you're demons?"

Zankou snorted. "I hardly think that should exclude us from…integrating…with the rest of you above ground if we so choose. We're not asking for a lot, just a small piece of land to call our own." He paused, "Like you."

"Meaning?" Kate growled.

Again, Zankou shrugged, giving Kate the impression of a slithery snake. "Meaning I'd heard that some of the humans were claiming Valhalla is a prime piece of property and why should the valkyries get to keep it?"

"That property has belonged to the valkyries since the beginning of time," Kate insisted, her voice ringing hollow in her ears. One of the few remaining unspoiled areas to escape relatively unscathed from the war, she was well aware that some of the humans were jostling for division of the territory. Resentment was riding high and the humans were calling on the valkyries to 'share the wealth' of the resource rich land. However, Chris had assured her at their last meeting it was only a choice few, troublemakers really, and that he was keeping on top of it. However, the fact that he had been unreachable in the past three weeks only furthered her suspicion that something was indeed up. She pointed out half-heartedly, "There is no dispute of ownership."

"Really?" Zankou's voice practically dripped with scepticism. "Funny. I heard differently."

"And what exactly did you hear?" Kate demanded, her temper rising.

"Only that Chris was meeting with some of the humans to discuss Valhalla," Zankou replied. "The one…oh, what's her name?" He snapped his fingers, "Sheridan!"

"Sheridan!" Kate's mouth dropped open in outrage. She knew that that particular human was significant cause for concern. Influential on the humans, Sheridan had made no effort to disguise her fear and disdain of the magical beings. It would just be like that woman to cause a commotion! Her nostrils flaring, Kate demanded, "Where is Chris meeting her?"

Zankou smiled slightly, "I'm not sure. I do know he was meeting with her today. I suspect he would meet with her on her own turf, don't you think?"

Her entire being concentrating on this injustice, Kate turned around abruptly, ready to leave and seek out Chris at his secret meeting to demand an explanation. She stopped, throwing over her shoulder, "Thank you for the info. I will return the favour by telling you this one last time. I speak for all valkyries when I say it will be a cold day in hell before we join forces with the ranks of demons, no matter what happens with the humans. Maybe next time you should think twice about joining forces with a madman." Without another word, she left.

Staring at the space where the valkyrie had just been standing, Zankou could feel the corners of his mouth begin to turn up into a small, evil smile, "Thank you, my lady."

* * *

Blues orbs tinkling were the only warning the Charmed Ones got.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Les asked, his mouth open in disbelief, as he caught sight of exactly what had set off the heightened alarm.

Dusting themselves off, the Charmed Ones and Leo blinked in surprise at the sight of Les demanding an explanation. Looking amongst themselves, Phoebe decided to answer for all of them, "Errr. We came to visit?"

Letting out a streak of curses enough to cause the sisters' cheeks to pinken and Leo to look uncomfortable, Les reined in his temper with Herculean effort, "I repeat. What – are – you – doing – here?"

Not willing to be intimidated, Piper stepped forward, her hands on her hips, "Look, you…you…you fishwife! I'm here to make sure Chris is okay. And I don't care what you think!"

Snapping his mouth closed, Les looked mildly insulted, "I am NOT a fishwife."

"What else would you call someone who nags and yells at people who have perfectly good reasons for being where they're being," Piper snapped, her temper short and conveying itself in no uncertain terms to the telepath.

Rubbing his forehead wearily, Les looked upwards, his voice pleading, "You have no sense of proportion, do you? It's just one thing after another. You never think we could use a break from all the excitement…maybe a little down time. A day off every once and awhile."

"Uh, who are you talking to?" Phoebe asked, leaning forward to whisper rather loudly.

Snapping back to attention, Les sighed. "No one. Look we need to get you out of here…it's not safe here."

"Not safe?" Paige queried, her voice raising swiftly in alarm. "What do you mean, not safe? I thought we saved the future!"

"Not here," Les glanced to his left and to his right. A crowd was swiftly forming around them, unbeknownst to the visitors from the past. He hissed, "We'll talk about this back at headquarters."

"Those…those are the Charmed Ones!" a voice from the crowd insisted.

Turning around slowly, the sisters and Leo finally noticed the precarious situation they were in. A crowd of about a hundred people were pushing forward, their fingers pointing, their faces filled with suspicion.

"I knew it! I knew they were still alive!"

"You lied to us! You said they were dead!"

"They can fix everything…you always claimed the Charmed Ones were more powerful than Wyatt. Get them to fix our homes!"

"We need water!"

"My daughter needs medicine!"

"My baby's sick!"

"Yeah, get them to fix our homes and our lives while they're at it!"

The crowd pressed closer and closer, the accusation on their faces as they demanded the Charmed Ones to fix everything. Panicking, the sisters threw a desperate glance at Les, who quickly stepped between the crowd and the Charmed Ones. Whispering over his shoulder at the sisters, "Back away. Slowly."

"But wha –," Phoebe started to say.

"Just do it!" Les hissed, making eye contact with the whitelighter. "First sign of trouble and you orb them out of here, understand?"

Hesitantly, the whitelighter nodded, "What about you?"

Before Les could respond, something smacked him in the chest. Glancing at his feet stupidly, he realized that someone had chucked a small rock at him. Whipping his head back up to meet the angry mob's, he protested, "Hey. Let's just calm down."

"We don't need to calm down. What we need is our supplies, like you promised!" A voice shouted over the angry mob's mutterings. A chorus of 'yays' supported the call.

Putting his hands up in a placating manner, Les tried to diffuse the situation, "Without factories and production lines operating at full capacity, we're still on ration situation…"

"We're tired of your excuses!"

Les ducked as another rock was whipped at his head. Angry, he yelled at the mob, "Hey, someone could get hurt here!"

The mob, clearly smelling blood, closed in for the kill. Someone heckled back, "Yeah – you!"

_Shit!_

"That's it!" Piper exclaimed furiously, her hands waving in the air as she effectively froze the rapidly expanding mob.

_What the hell was happening?_

Letting out a sigh of relief, Les eyed the now frozen crowd apprehensively. Time enough later to sort that question out. First things first. Getting the Charmed Ones back to their own time had rocketed to the top of list of things to do. "Let's get out of here."

Opening her mouth to demand again, what the hell was going on, Les shook his head at Piper. "Trust me. We really need to get out of here."

Glancing over at the angry mob, their expressions frozen in rage and hatred, Piper shuddered. Turning away, she exchanged a worried glance with Leo before agreeing, huskily, "You're right. Let's get out of here."

Looking at the whitelighter, Les nodded, "Follow us." And the two disappeared in a flurry of blue lights.

Grasping Phoebe's hand, Paige quickly followed, her blue orbs dissolving.

Throwing one last look at the innocents that it had always been impressed upon her as her duty to protect, she stepped into Leo's embrace. As they dematerialized, she saw the crowd recover from her freezing power in time to hear them yell something that made her blood curdle.

_Burn witches, burn!_

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Shorter than usual because I like where this chapter ends…

**Thanks go to: **

**Starry Sky 44:** I wanted a better acronym, but it was the only one I could come up with. Thanks for the encouraging review – it is much appreciated!

**Charmed Ravenclaw:** Yep – I tried to rethink _Redundant_, but this kept coming out instead. Hope you're enjoying it. Thanks for taking the time to push that button and letting me know your thoughts.

**Jade Hunter:** Thank you so much for your very kind words (here and for _No Fate_)! Your comments gave me such a pick me up to complete this chapter. BTW, good pick up on the ID cards – unfortunately, this is inspired from real life events. Sad, eh?

**Chattypandagurl:** Thanks for the wonderful words – regarding Chris' illness I will say that it is magic related.

**Girl-with-the-green-eyes:** Glad you liked the humour – always a challenge for me to incorporate. Between you and me, I'm not really sure what Zankou is up to either! Thanks again for always taking the time to review.

**Indigochipmunk:** Hope this meets your timeline. Thanks for the review!

**Mjp3:** Chris' illness is definitely magic related, as I was too lazy to actually research a real illness. By making it caused by magic allows me to create my own symptoms to suit the storyline. More will be revealed in the upcoming chapters, I promise. Again, thank you for the encouraging comment!

**Connor**: I don't write Buffy fics because I don't think I could do justice to the wonderful characters Joss has created.

**

* * *

The End of All Things**

**Chapter 5**

The splotches were spreading.

From far away, it looked like he had some sort of rash. He frowned at the reflection in the mirror. But of course, on closer inspection, the pale red splotches which smattered his skin were slowly increasing in number and size. He had noticed the first one several months ago upon his return from the past. At first, Chris had thought he'd pick up some sort of allergic reaction as a result of his visit with his family, not surprising given the incredible differences between living in the past and his present.

But of course, fate was never that kind.

He shuddered.

He'd ignored the warning signs, keeping his suspicions to himself. Besides, his attention was consumed with the incredible burden of returning the world to what it once was. The balance of good and evil had once more tipped back on the side of good, but you wouldn't know it from the devastation left behind. He had had to focus himself on righting the world as quickly as he could, leaving himself blind to the slow deterioration of his health.

Days, then weeks and months passed. Other symptoms appeared – the nosebleeds, the hair loss, momentary loss of motor control and the most recent and alarming – the vomiting of blood.

When he had finally accepted the inevitable, when he finally decided he could no longer ignore his condition, he had sought help – and they only confirmed what he already knew.

Lilah had been by earlier for another of their countless healing sessions that were growing increasingly in number and frequency. She had berated him once again for not seeking help earlier – not that it would have made a difference in the long run, he had quickly returned. _No_, she agreed, _but you needn't suffer in silence, which you're want to do._

"_Me? Suffer in silence?" Chris asked, his right eyebrow raised in sarcasm._

"_Very funny, Chris. Sometimes I think you enjoy playing the martyr," Lilah accused._

"_Never," Chris shook his head empathically. "That went out of style with Joan of Arc."_

_Lilah sighed, "Ever the erstwhile comedian, I see."_

"_I try," Chris shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and promptly spoiling the effect as another coughing fit attacked him._

It was the truth. Chris didn't enjoy suffering in silence – he just hadn't been able to admit to himself the reality of his illness. He had convinced himself it was a bad cough that would eventually go away. The symptoms had onset so gradually, he honestly hadn't noticed. The tiredness could be attributed to the reconstruction efforts, the splotches to an allergic reaction, the nosebleeds to the change in the environment…all logical conclusions.

_And if I couldn't even acknowledge it myself_, Chris thought, _how could I even admit it to the others?_

He'd visibly stepped back from his position as leader of the Resistance, ostensibly to deal with his illness though there were few who were in the know. Both Darryl and Les were insisting Chris inform the general populace of his illness, not understanding his reluctance to do so. Not up to arguing with either of his friends, Chris had stubbornly maintained it would be his decision to communicate the nature of his absence, if at all. He preferred it that way – less pitying looks and sympathetic murmurings to avoid.

_The last thing I want is for people to treat me like some bloody invalid_, Chris thought, his lips curling into a slight grimace. Stumbling from the bathroom, he made his way to the couch, slowly plodding forward before collapsing onto the piece of furniture, breathing heavily.

The illness had taken its toll. It had been hard to summon up even a semblance of interest in the current ongoings. Even though he wasn't visible to the general population, both Darryl and Les had daily meetings with him to keep him abreast on current events. Just the other week, Les had complained how he was nervous about how mortals knew all about the weaknesses and strengths of magical beings – the information 'taught' to many of the Resistance scouts as part of their training. Meanwhile, Darryl had been unable to dissuade the Council from supporting the mortals' request – pretty soon all magical beings would be 'issued' temporary identification documents.

Oh, it wasn't that he was _disinterested, _exactly…but rather, he found it incredibly difficult to remain focused for a substantial length of time. He tired quickly, for one, and the pain had a draining effect on his energy reserves. It often became so bad he had had to ask his two friends to leave and fetch Lilah.

He sighed, his breath leaving his lungs in a long wheeze.

None of his friends could understand his attitude. They were furious at the fate hand had dealt. He was young, he was a good man – if anyone deserved some good fortune, they had argued, surely it was Chris. Surely he should be upset at the injusticeness of it all, they pointed out.

He had agreed with them on the surface, knowing they couldn't possibly understand the complexity of the emotions he was feeling right now. Hell, he wasn't even sure himself if the utter lack of concern on his part was due to simple acceptance of the inevitable or almost a feeling of relief. Relief that someone else would have to be responsible, relief that someone else would have to shoulder the burden…relief that he could finally, selfishly, be free of all his obligations.

Horrid thought, that.

_Dying just to escape my duties? You can't get more pathetic than that_, Chris thought bitterly, his eyes closed as he rested. _Regardless, they're just going to have to learn how to get along without me._

After all, he was dying.

* * *

Still furious from her conversation with Zankou, Kate continued to fume. She knew in her head she needed to calm down before returning to Valhalla. If her sisters saw her in this condition, she would have no hope in controlling their need to avenge the slight against them.

_No_, as she drew in a slow, deep, breath, Kate thought, _I need to figure out what exactly is going on, what I'm going to do first and what Chris is up to exactly_.

The moon overhead glowed brightly, illuminating the forest and its beauty with a glow from within. As she continued to stalk through the woods from her recent meeting with the demon, she could feel the calming effect the surroundings had on her.

_Could Chris have promised the humans a part of Valhalla?_

While her heart automatically said 'No!' her mind said differently. When she had first met Chris as the war with Wyatt had begun to emerge, she had always known he was a ruthless individual when it came to doing what he perceived to be right. Behind the cajoling and coaxing in his words, she had seen the steely-eyed determination bordering on zeal.

She had been hovering on the border of making the decision to join Chris and his cause. She had known the chances of the mortals surviving the round with Wyatt had been slim. But she wasn't going to form an alliance just because the humans needed it. No – she had to think of her sisters first.

Oh, she knew he had manipulated the information before it got to her – after all, she had years of wisdom in the way of war and human nature on him. But she had admired his sheer audacity that he could fool a valkyrie and the conviction in his heart that he was doing the right thing.

All in the name of protecting the lives of hundreds of thousands.

She had come to respect the young man. He was intelligent and he was brave –characteristics that she greatly admired.

She wondered what Chris would say if she told him she hadn't joined the Resistance out of goodness but rather her desire to keep her sisters safe.

She knew he would never judge her.

And she knew then she would give him the benefit of the doubt he would have given her if their roles were reversed.

_Pain!_

As her nerve endings exploded in her back, she lost control of her limbs. Collapsing to her knees, she gasped painfully, trying to speak. She gurgled, desperate to alert someone to her situation…but all that bubbled forth was blood.

Falling forward onto her hands, she felt the pain spread quickly through body like a brush fire, consuming everything in its path and leaving her only with the feeling of white-hot searing pain.

She blinked stupidly, the darkness overwhelming her, swallowing her whole.

_What the fuck–?_

Her face hit the ground.

She could smell the fresh pine.

* * *

As soon as she materialized, Piper didn't waste a moment, whirling on Les and demanded, "What the hell is going on?"

Piper gave the area a cursory glance, noting the familiar walls. She vaguely remembered talking with Chris here, in this small room with the maps tacked against the walls and the incredible stacks of paper weighing down the nearby desk. Perhaps a sign of the passage of time, but the desk's surface was clean; although maps were still pinned to the wall, the desk stood litter free.

"Funny," Les remarked, sarcasm prevalent in his tone, "I thought that was my line." He stomped around the desk to gaze at them furiously from behind it, not bothering to mask his irritation. He crossed his arms across his chest, resembling a petulant child.

"Where's Chris?" Not the least bit intimidated, Paige stated the obvious question hovering in all of their minds, "And why hasn't the future changed?"

"Maybe that's a question you should ask yourselves," came the short reply from the telepath.

"And maybe we should ask Chris," Leo replied evenly, his eyes never leaving Les.

"He's not available," Les stated tonelessly, his expression carefully blank.

Piper watched with interest as his eyes fell abruptly away from Leo's. Experienced in the ways of reading body expressions as a mother of two little boys, Piper's eyes narrowed. Clearly, Les knew something and wasn't intending on sharing. "Where's Chris?" _Better to throw down the gauntlet now and find out where everyone stood_, she reasoned.

Hoping to avoid answering, Les tried to distract Chris' mother, saying instead, "We need to get you out of here."

"Not until we've seen my son," Piper insisted, her mouth set in a mutinous line. Did he really think she would be so easily put off? "I repeat – where is my son?"

"He's busy," Les hedged, his eyes shifting from side to side as he tried to buy some time.

"Too busy to see his family?" Piper's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, "I highly doubt it. Either you tell me where my son is, or I'll go looking for him myself!"

"Look, Piper –,"

"Chris! Chris!" Piper began to call her son's name. "Answer me this minute, young man!"

"If you would just –," Les tried again.

"Leo, can you sense him?" Piper asked her husband, who tilted his head to one side. Hollering now, "Chris!"

Leo shook his head, "I think…I'm having a hard time sensing him. But I think…something's wrong."

Alarmed, Piper grasped her husband's arm, rounding on him in agitation, "Wrong? What do you mean, wrong?"

Again, Leo shook his head slowly, as if puzzled, "I'm picking up on him…but it's weak. Faint, almost. It's making it difficult for me to narrow down…"

"It's probably because your senses are all screwed up from being in the future," Les injected quickly.

Phoebe blinked before saying quietly, "You're lying."

Anger fuelled by fear quickly swamped Piper, causing her to stalk over to the telepath and clutching both of his arms to give him a little shake, "Where is my son?"

"Piper!" Paige came forward to restrain her sister, alarmed at Piper's behaviour, "Take it easy."

Shoving Paige's hands away from her, Piper came nose to nose with Les, who was wincing under Piper's hard glare, "Don't you tell me to take it easy! Something is going on with my son, and _he_ knows! I want answers and I want them now!" As if to emphasize her displeasure, she jabbed her index finger into Les' chest with each word to punctuate her point.

Shooting a glance at the whitelighter standing uncomfortably in the corner, Les said quietly, "Leave us."

A quick nod and the whitelighter orbed out, leaving the Halliwells and Leo alone with Les in the small room.

"Well? What is it that you couldn't say in front of that guy?" Piper demanded, still angry.

Her empathy kicking in, Phoebe could suddenly feel the swirl of emotions emanating from Les. _Grief. Sadness. Pity._ Phoebe shook her head in disbelief. She staggered backwards, her hands rising as if to feebly ward off the feeling of dread, groaning, "No…"

Quickly coming to her sister's side, Paige steadied Phoebe by grabbing onto Phoebe's arms. She swallowed, "Phoebe?"

Whipping her head to look at her sister, Piper asked, concerned, "Phoebe? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Silent tears bubbled forth, leaking from her eyes to stream down her face. Phoebe swiped at them furiously, her eyes locked on Les', whispering hoarsely, "It's not me, Piper."

Thoroughly alarmed, Piper slowly swivelled her head to stare at Les, aware that Leo was also focusing on the telepath. "Les? What's going on?"

Visibly upset, Les reined in his emotions with an enormous effort, knowing if he didn't suppress them, Phoebe's power would continue to assert itself. His eyes never leaving Phoebe's, Les shook his head imperceptibly. His voice was curiously flat, "I think…I think you should come with me."

* * *

The darklighter contemplated the body beneath his foot. Pulling out his arrow rather carelessly, he rolled the valkyrie's body over with his foot onto her back. Leaning down, he gently picked up the pendant lying on the now still chest of the warrior woman. Carefully, he wrapped the silver chain around his fist and with one brutal yank, he ripped away the valkyrie's heritage. Pocketing the object of his kill, he knelt down next to the valkyrie, picking up the body in his arms. Looking to his left and then his right, the darklighter grinned in satisfaction as his eyes alit on the perfect spot a few metres away. Shifting the weight of his kill in his arms, he slowly walked towards the edge, his breath laboured.

He stood on the damp ground, his eyes carefully watching the reflection of the moon in the lake in front of him. The lake seemed to stretch for miles, the late hour making it difficult to see beneath the surface. Grimacing, he stepped into the watery grave, the water splashing against him as he continued to walk forward.

When the water reached his waist, the darklighter stopped. Looking down into his arms at the still warm body, Kate's face was peaceful, giving the appearance that she was merely sleeping. He lowered his arms until they were under the water's surface, and with a gentle push, he let go.

He watched as the pale face of the valkyrie slowly disappeared from his sight, sinking into the inky blackness of the lake.

Satisfied no trace of the valkyrie remained, the darklighter dissolved in a swirl of black orbs.

* * *

_At the Resistance's headquarters…_

Although they had only spent a brief time in the Resistance's base during their last impromptu visit to the future, Leo had no trouble recognizing the steel halls for what they were. As Les continued to lead them through the winding corridors silently, Leo began to feel the dread building in his stomach with every step they took.

However, the feel of the base was significantly different from before; whereas before, the base had been buzzing with activity and had seemed almost…alive…now…now it felt like they were the only ones around.

Casting his gaze over the sisters, he noticed that Paige seemed to be lost in her thoughts and Phoebe was, curiously, silent. Piper, like himself, was tight-lipped. Les' refusal to discuss Chris any further than the few words exchanged back at command central and coupled with Phoebe's emotional outburst only confirmed both his and Piper's suspicions that all was not well.

_But I can feel Chris_, Leo argued with himself, trying to ignore the bleak feeling in his heart. _Granted, it's…faint. But he's here. And he's alive. So things didn't change. Yet. At least we know. And maybe there's still a chance we can fix things._

He exchanged another worried glance with Piper; he didn't need to be a telepath to know she was devastated that the future, and their sons' fate, hadn't changed. Every step echoed loudly in the empty metal halls, serving to remind them of the sterile future that awaited their children.

Another turn and the group entered a hallway that seemed to stretch for miles ahead. Taking in his surroundings, Leo noted the wooden doors, many with names slotted in a placeholder stuck to the front of the door. Abruptly, Les came to a halt, stopping in front of a door marked "Chris Halliwell."

Rather than knocking on the door in front of him as Leo expected Les to do, the telepath turned to face Chris' family. As if weighing the words he was about to say, Les said carefully, "You should…prepare yourselves."

"Prepare ourselves for what?" Paige asked, confused and irritated all at once. "What is with all the cloak and dagger stuff anyways?"

Les shook his head, "Chris hasn't shared with anyone except for a few of us on his…condition."

"Condition? What do you mean condition?" Fear caused Piper's voice to rise with an octave with each word. Leo placed his hand on Piper's shoulder, hoping to convey her the comfort she needed. Piper, in turn, raised her hand to cover his, giving it a slight squeeze as if to say, _thanks_.

Rather than answering, Les merely shook his head. And at that moment, that flash of expression that flitted across Les' face so quickly that he thought he might have imagined it, that Leo began to feel his heart rise into his mouth. Full of sympathy, it told Leo everything he had dreaded – that whatever Chris' condition was, it wasn't good.

Rapping on the door briefly, Les called out, "Chris. It's me."

A cough. Then a weary, "Come in."

Opening the door, Les indicated to the family to precede him. Stepping over the threshold, Leo paled significantly. The harsh white fluorescent lights revealed two people, one an older woman, clearly a whitelighter given the golden glow coming from her hands as she healed her patient, and the other, her patient. Chris.

"_Chris_?"

"Mom?"

The thin reedy word definitely coming from Chris' lips, though it didn't sound like anything she had ever heard from her son's voice before.

Unable to say a word, Piper stood staring at the horrific wreck of a human being that was her son. Chris was currently seated on a couch, huddling in blankets, shivering and looking as sick as a dog. Behind her, she could hear her sisters' gasp as they all crowded into the room and caught a glimpse of the ill young man. Her hands came up to her mouth, and she could only stare in disbelief.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Chris demanded, his voice weak but no less angry.

Feeling his family's eyes trained upon him clearly in shock, Chris, in no mood to be pitied, snapped, "Are you finished staring? If you are, then you can turn around and get the hell back to your own time." Swinging his eyes to narrow on his friend, he accused, "And what the hell were you thinking, Les? Get them out of here. Now." He punctuated his displeasure with a deep cough.

"Chris," Lilah reprimanded her friend softly, gently supporting him as he continued to hack and heave.

Even from where Leo was standing, he could see the changes that had wrought in Chris since they had last parted. His son's skin was a sickly yellow, his hair lank and flat against his head. As his green eyes blazed across the room to meet his, Leo saw the sunken cheeks and heavy circles under Chris' eyes, giving his son's face an almost skeletal appearance.

In short – he hardly resembled the wise-cracking, energetic young man Leo had come to know and love.

Before Les could defend himself, Phoebe leapt to his defence, "Don't blame him. He didn't want to bring us here. But Piper and Leo…we…came to the future because we needed to see you."

Shoving himself up and away from the couch where he had been sitting on, Chris' gaze shot daggers at his aunt, saying brutally, "Why?" Standing, Leo could see Chris' clothes seemed to hang from his skinny frame, indicating he had lost significant weight.

"Because…because we needed to know you were going to be…are…okay," Paige finished lamely.

"Obviously, I'm not," Chris snorted, his steps slow and measured as he circled his family like an animal stalking its prey.

Suddenly snapping out of her stupor, Piper pushed her way to Chris' side. Although she didn't mean for it to sound so, concern inflected her voice, causing it to come out shrilly, "What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, just a really bad cold, I think," Chris winced, and promptly started to hack.

Piper looked up at him with dubious eyes. His dark hair was molded to his head, his forehead was beaded with sweat, and his skin seemed to be mottled. Putting her hand to his forehead, she recoiled instantly at the heat emanating from him. She accused him sharply, "That is not a cold!"

Pushing his way into the room, Leo looked down at his son in alarm, "Piper? What's wrong with him?"

Chris shrugged. "Nothing's wrong. I'm feeling just peachy, thanks." He then spoiled the effect by having another severe coughing fit.

Paige's eyebrow rose, "Isn't that my line?"

"What? You got a patent on it or something?" Chris asked sardonically, clutching his side. He groaned as he struggled to remain standing.

"Son," Leo's voice was hoarse with concern, "What…what's happened?"

Chris shrugged, choosing to avoid answering.

Staring into the fevered eyes of his son, Leo could feel his heart shrink. In the corner of his eye, he could see Piper, who was sobbing quietly. Preparing to reject anything less than the truth, Leo managed to croak, half-demandingly, "Chris – what's wrong with you?"

The silence in the room grew as all the occupants held their breath, waiting for an explanation. Leo's voice had broke no argument. Letting his breath go in a long, slow, hiss, Chris closed his eyes briefly, before confessing, "I…it's hard to explain."

Choking back her sobs, Piper raised her tear ravaged face to stare into her son's deliberately expressionless face, "Just tell me…just tell me you're going to be all right. That you're going to be _just fine_."

A pause, and Leo felt himself cringe as Chris responded to Piper's request. His son's voice was low, each word spoken slowly as if he were measuring each one out carefully, as if the truth were something to be doled out cautiously.

"I can't tell you that."

"Explain yourself, Christopher," Piper's tone did not give him an option to disobey.

Opening his mouth to respond, Chris suddenly doubled over in pain. Spasms ran up and down his spine, and he began to cough uncontrollably. Blood dripped from his mouth, his dry heaving leaving him weakened. Alarmed, Piper threw a glance at her husband, as Leo rushed to his son's side, his hands aglow.

Chris continued to hack and cough.

"Why isn't it working? Why aren't you healing him?" Piper asked anxiously.

"I don't know," Leo responded, puzzled. "It should work. If something was blocking me, I'd feel it. But it _feels_ like it should be working." He threw a desperate glance at Lilah, who could shake her head sadly, "Why isn't it working?"

Regaining control over his body as the spasms died away, Chris shook his head weakly. Pushing Leo's hands away, Chris whispered, his throat dry, "It won't work. You can't heal me. No one can."

"Chris? What are you talking about?" Piper traded glances with her sisters and Leo. "What do you mean, 'no one can'?"

Sighing, Chris met his mother's concerned gaze, knowing he had to tell her the truth, no matter how much he didn't want to. "I'm dying, mom."

Gasps from Phoebe and Paige reached Leo's ears as he watched Piper sink to the floor in defeat. His wife's arms were wrapped around herself, as she rocked herself back and forth, shaking her head in denial. Crouching down next to his distraught wife, Leo's eyes locked with his son's over Piper's head, and he saw the resignation in Chris' gaze. Licking his dry lips, Leo could only plead, "Why?"

Chris' mouth quirked in a self-deprecating smirk, "Time travel. It can really turn around and bite you in the ass."

* * *

_In the Underworld…_

Zankou stared at the valkyrie's pendant, the jewel winking hypnotically from the firelight in the dark cavern. He smiled, allowing his gaze to shift to the deeply bowing darklighter in front of him. "You have done well."

The darklighter didn't look up, "Thank you, my lord."

"I will reward you as promised," Zankou leaned back in his throne languidly, still toying with the jewel, "but first…"

The darklighter's shoulders stiffened, but he said nothing.

Zankou let the chain slip through his fingers as he held out the pendant to the darklighter, "But first…I need you to do one more thing for me…"

* * *

To be continued… 


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Writer's block…sorry!

**Thanks go to**: Starry Sky 44, chattypandagurl, icantthinkofafnick, Charmed Ravenclaw, connor, and Zeria. You guys were the only reason between me stubbornly continuing and giving up entirely in helpless frustration.

**

* * *

The End of All Things **

**Chapter 6**

_The Bay area…_

"I personally oversaw the distribution of the identification cards for us. I've already instructed the border patrols about the new procedures. I hope you held up your end of the deal and made sure those freaks know they have to present their cards for entry to the city."

The woman rubbed her temples wearily, "You don't have to shout, Jeremiah."

The ruddy-faced man regarded the woman in front of him with a sneer, "If you can't take the heat…"

Barely controlling her urge to plant her fist in Jeremiah's smug face, Sheridan replied evenly, "You may be deaf, but I certainly am not. Look, you've made your point. I'll be sure to take it up with Chris the next time I see him."

Snorting, Jeremiah placed his hands on Sheridan's desk, leaning forward until his nose practically touched hers. "You'd better. If those freaks aren't carrying their identification cards the next time they show up…"

Shoving her chair back abruptly, Jenny didn't back off, not the least intimidated by this bully. "I _said_ you've made your point. Just make sure everyone's been issued theirs. I don't want anyone making mistakes because we didn't supply our own people with their own cards." She frowned, "I don't think I saw anything on the new border procedures. Did that come across my desk?"

Folding his arms, Jeremiah shrugged sardonically, "You said not to bother you with the small stuff. I took care of it."

A knock on the door momentarily diverted her attention. "Elise! Come on in. I've been expecting you." Returning her attention to Jeremiah, Jenny nodded curtly, trying to conceal her dislike of the arrogant little man. "Fine. Thank you." Giving him a rather pointed stare, "Is that all?"

"Yeah," Jeremiah drawled, "that's all." Pivoting, the older man sauntered towards the doorway, rudely brushing by Elise and throwing over his shoulder at Jenny, "Don't bother getting up. I know my way out."

Recovering her balance, Elise rolled her eyes at the man's behaviour before meeting Jenny's eyes, "Is he always this pleasant?"

Jenny sighed, sitting back down in her chair and waving Elise to take the one across from her. They were currently sitting in the old city hall, one of the few buildings substantially completed by the reconstruction efforts. Already there were clerks running around the place, administrators vying for an audience and community leaders like Jeremiah sticking a thorn in her side. "Regardless of whether or not he's pleasant, the fact of the matter is he has a strong following in the community. He does represent a lot of voices."

Elise chuckled, "Office politics. That's what you get for being mayor."

"I never thought I'd be mayor of anything, let alone mayor of the new San Francisco," Jenny replied rather ruefully.

Elise smiled slightly, "If it makes you feel better, I think you're doing a wonderful job so far."

Jenny returned the grin, "It does. Thanks."

"Aren't we the mutual appreciation society?" Raising her eyebrow, Elise decided to get straight to the point, "Look, you're busy. I'm busy. You mind telling me why you wanted to see me?"

Leaning back in her chair, Jenny craned her neck to peer beyond Elise towards the doorway, "You mind shutting the door?"

Blinking in surprise, Elise hesitated only for a moment before manoeuvring out of her chair to shut the door. Returning to her seat, Elise stared at Jenny with an expectant look on her face, "Now you've really got my curiosity up."

"I want this to be unofficial. Off the record," Jenny pointedly looked at the former news editor. "I need someone I can trust, someone who'll be discreet…"

Elise sighed, "I guess that someone is me. All right, what's going on?"

Jenny hesitated, speaking thoughtfully, her words measured, "There's a rumour going around that someone is associating with demons."

"What?" Elise's mouth dropped open in complete surprise.

"Shhhh!" Jenny held her finger to her lips. "Elise!"

"Sorry," Elise muttered under her breath. "But you have to admit, you sort of just dropped that into my lap."

"Well, imagine how I felt when I heard that," Jenny grimaced.

Elise frowned, "You realize that whoever this is, it could mean big trouble."

"I know," Jenny tapped her pencil against her notebook slowly. "I need to know if the rumours are true, Elise. The very fact that if this is indeed being done, it can only mean bad things."

"Who else knows?"

Jenny ticked off her fingers, "Me. My source. You. That's it. And I don't want anyone else to know. Our only hope of catching who's behind this is to make sure they don't think we're onto them."

"I'm going to need some help on this," Elise warned, thinking of her former team of reporters. "I'm going to have to tell a couple of people."

Jenny nodded, "I trust you. You tell who you need to. But make sure they understand that they need to keep it to themselves. The last thing we want is to tip off the guilty party."

"All right," Elise sighed, wondering when the world had become so complicated. "Anything else?"

Jenny shook her head, "That's plenty, don't you think?"

Elise snorted, "No kidding." A pause, and then, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course,"

"ID cards. Was that really necessary?" Elise aimed a sceptical look at her friend.

"Not you too," Jenny groaned. "Look, it was the fastest way to calm a potentially hysterical population. Now everyone has cards that say they're human and Chris is making sure his group has cards that say they're witches or magical beings. The only time anyone is going to need to use them is when they're coming into the city. It's a formality, that's all."

Elise's right eyebrow rose, "You don't think it's a little paranoid checking every single person entering the city walls for their heritage? It's not like the demons are going to allow us to subject them to searches."

"I know, but…" Jenny started to explain.

_Get back, freaks!_

Both Jenny and Elise leapt out of their seats at the loud yell. Running to the window, they watched in open-mouthed amazement as a mass of people ran by, screaming and yelling. Looking at each other in astonishment, Jenny was the first one to come to her senses, spinning on her heel and whipping out the door, with Elise right behind her.

_What the –?_

* * *

_Back at the Resistance's headquarters..._

"What!" Four voices chorused in varying degrees of disbelief.

"It's the cost of time travelling. It physically impacts your body. Did you think there weren't any consequences to time travel?" Chris pointed out, his tone clipped. "It eventually screws up your body chemistry and kills you."

Four pairs of eyes ping-ponged between Chris, Lilah and Les, searching for confirmation.

"But we've made plenty of trips!" Phoebe protested. "There was that time we travelled to our future and that time we went back to the 70s…and then we visited you…"

"The number of trips is just _one_ of the factors," Chris explained tiredly. "What really screws up the body is how _long_ your body remains in a timeline it's not supposed to be in." He smiled crookedly as his family stared at him in horror. "Which I think I've got all of you beaten on, hands down."

"And…and you knew this…when you came back a _year_ before you were born to save Wyatt?" Piper whispered.

"Sort of," Chris shrugged nonchalantly, "It may have come up when I was researching for the spell to take me back to the past."

"Then you…knew? You knew…that you'd get sick?" Phoebe shook her head slowly, trying to comprehend.

"I was hoping that it wouldn't take the _whole_ year to find out who turned Wyatt, but I figured I'd err on the safe side and make sure I gave myself enough time. It was a risk I was willing to take," Chris replied, his tone deliberately cavalier.

"So…how do we fix it? How do we cure you?" Leo asked anxiously.

Chris finally looked up, meeting the concerned gazes of his family. "We don't."

"I don't understand," Paige asked, looking at her sisters who returned her questioning look with one of their own.

Lilah spoke up, her voice gentle, "There is no cure. Medical treatment is only to relieve suffering."

Chris shrugged, "At least, that's what I'm told."

Lilah placed a hand on Chris' shoulder.

Stunned silence.

"Hey," the corner of Chris' mouth quirked upwards. "It's not that bad. You wouldn't believe how much sympathy I can milk this for."

"How…how can you…how can you even _joke_ about something like this?" Piper sputtered, tears welling in her eyes, spilling over to silently stream down her face. "_How?_"

"I'm not dead…yet," Chris pointed out logically, his weary eyes meeting his mother's. "I've learned the hard way – I'll take whatever laughs I can get whenever I can. They come few and far between as it is."

"That is so not funny, Chris!" Piper told her son in her best no nonsense 'mom' voice. "It's NOT funny!"

Seeing the uncomfortable look on Chris' face, Les decided to shift the attention away temporarily from his friend. Clearing his throat to catch the Charmed Ones' attention, Les said gently, "I think everyone needs to take a breather. This was…I know you weren't expecting this."

"You…" Piper turned on Les, her eyes bright with tears and outrage. "You _knew!_ And you didn't say anything!"

Seeing the mother's fear for her cub in Piper's eyes, Les knew she was looking for an outlet for all her emotions. He nodded slightly, unapologetic, "It wasn't my place."

Ready to tear a strip off of Les for insensitivity, Piper opened her mouth. Behind her she could vaguely hear Leo murmuring to her to wait, but she didn't care. She felt utterly useless – her son was dying and there was nothing she could do. If it had been a demon, she would vanquished it. If it had been an injury, she would have nursed him back to health. If it had been anything, _anything_ but this…

She felt all her frustration build inside her until she knew she had to _scream._

"Message from San Fran!"

Interrupting Piper before she could explode, a whitelighter orbed in unannounced. Collapsing to the floor, he gasped, "It's the valkyries! They're attacking the humans!"

Les' mouth dropped open, "What?"

Ignoring Les, Lilah rushed to the side of her fellow whitelighter, pushing him onto his back. An arrow, buried in his shoulder, told her clearly what exactly was the matter with him. "Les, pull the arrow out of him, now!" she barked, unsure whether it was a darklighter arrow or not.

However, Les was preoccupied as reports began to pour in. Clutching his head, Les began to shake his head in disbelief, "All hell's breaking loose!"

"Phoebe – help Lilah. Les, you're with me," Chris ordered, orbing the two away before anyone could say a word.

"Wait!" Piper cried out futilely, as her son and his friend disappeared. Not knowing what was going on, and frankly, not giving a damn, all Piper knew was she needed answers. And Chris was the only one who could give them to her. Whirling on her husband she grabbed his hand, commanding, "Follow them!"

Without a word, Leo whisked Piper away after their errant son, Paige dropped to her knees next to Lilah, helping her to hold the injured whitelighter down. Shooting her sister a concerned glance, Paige asked "You ready?"

Phoebe nodded, wrapping her fingers around the arrow.

"On three, then," Paige instructed. "One…two…three!"

Gritting her teeth, Phoebe _pulled_, yanking the arrow free of the whitelighter. Immediately Lilah laid her hands over the open wound, the golden glow swiftly passing over the injury. Meanwhile, Phoebe proceeded to wrap the arrow in a nearby towel, carefully disposing the poisonous weapon into the nearby trash receptacle.

Exchanging a worried look with her sister, Paige demanded answers from Lilah, "What did he mean, the valkyries are attacking the humans? I thought they were on our side, for Christ's sakes!"

Groaning, the now recovered whitelighter sat up and exchanged a bleak look with Lilah, saying grimly, "Not anymore."

* * *

The commotion was deafening. 

"What the hell is going on?" Jenny yelled at the first person she encountered at the fringe of the quickly increasing crowd. The individual shrugged, mouthing something that Jenny couldn't make out over the noise and pointed. The crowd had moved forward, outside the safety of the city walls, and ignoring the little voice in the back of her head, Jenny began to push and shove her way towards what she hoped was the front of the crowd. Jostling her way to the front, the crowd was intent on whatever lay in front, ignoring her attempts to elbow forward. Finally spotting a gap in the crowd, Jenny surged forward and found herself standing side by side with Jeremiah.

"Jeremiah!" Jenny said sharply. "What the hell is going on?"

Barely sparing a glance at the former inspector, Jeremiah jerked his chin forward. Quickly turning in the direction he indicated, Jenny gasped. An old man was cowering on the ground, his hands covering his head, blood dripping down the side of face. Dropping to her knees, Jenny reached out to the injured elderly man, "Sir! Are you okay?"

The old man sobbed, shaking his head pitifully, "I didn't do nothing wrong. I swears! I don't knows why they hurt me!"

Yelling over her shoulder for medical attention, Jenny clasped the poor man's hands in her own, "Who? Who wants to hurt you?"

"Ahem," Jeremiah broke in, none too gently. "I think he means them."

Following Jeremiah's accusing finger, Jenny's eyes widened at the sight that greeted her. Less than 50 metres away, three angry looking valkyries were glaring at her. Jeremiah answered Jenny, correctly interpreting her unspoken question, "The old man must have been wandering outside the city walls. The border guards heard his screams and managed to get him away from those women before they could kill him. One of the border guards was smart enough to run back inside for reinforcements, so here we are."

Straightening, Jenny looked pointedly at the three valkyries, "What is the meaning of this?"

"He has committed a crime against us," one of the valkyries answered, "He must be punished."

"This man is under my protection," Jenny said bravely, drawing her confidence from the gathering crowd of her people behind her. "He is innocent until proven guilty. Why don't you tell me exactly what you're accusing him of?"

"You think we are afraid of you?" the warrior woman sneered.

Before Jenny could respond, Jeremiah stepped forward menacingly, "We're not the ones outnumbered here."

The valkyries smiled in trimuph, "Neither are we."

_Oh shit…_

* * *

"Duck!" 

Hearing Les' shout, Chris narrowly missed being impaled by an arrow. He blinked in astonishment, not sure if he could believe what he was seeing. He had orbed to just outside the perimeter of new San Fran's city walls, which was as close as the no-orbing spell was going to let him. On his left, coming over the hill, the valkyries were out in full body armour, their spears and swords raised over their heads threateningly. Moving forward rapidly to confront the warrior women, the mortals from the nearby settlement had left the city walls, carrying pitchforks, torches and cross bows, resembling an angry mob from the 1800s.

"STOP!"

Turning to face the young man who had bellowed, both sides paused. Positioned to one side, Chris had manoeuvred himself to stand exactly in the middle between the two angry groups. Les cautiously moved himself behind Chris, covering his back. At that moment Leo and Piper orbed in. Rapidly gauging the state of affairs, Leo quickly stepped behind Les, pulling Piper with him, clamping his hand over her mouth to prevent her from saying anything that could tip the scales into violence. He whispered at the telepath, "Les?"

_:Don't say anything. Don't move, don't speak, don't even breath unless you have to.: _Les' mind voice echoed clearly in Leo's mind, and from the tone, Leo knew Piper was hearing the same thing. _:One wrong move and it could set off either side, something we REALLY don't want.:_

_:What the hell is going on?_ Leo asked in his head, knowing Les would be 'listening'.

_:I don't know. Looks like we're about to find out.:_

"What the hell is going on here?" Chris demanded. He struggled to maintain his composure, but his illness was making him dizzy. He knew he looked sickly, but Chris knew he had to put on a front of strength, lest either side believed he wouldn't be able to contain the situation and decide to capitalize on his weakness. Recognizing Kate's second in command, he hissed at the valkyrie, "Freyna?"

"They killed Kate!" she pointed her finger in accusation. "These…humans! They stole her amulet and killed her!"

"That's a lie!" A voice from the other side shouted.

"Pigs!" A valkyrie retorted.

The crowd bristled at the insult.

Realizing the precarious balancing act he was about to tightrope walk, Chris directed a sharp look at the valkyries. "Enough. Control your people or I'll control them for you." Behind him, Chris could feel Les tense, indicating he knew Chris was bluffing. _Let's hope _they_ don't_, Chris thought grimly.

The valkyrie hesitated, her eyes running up and down Chris, as if trying to gauge the seriousness of his threat. He met her gaze unflinching; his face displayed no emotion as he waited, not knowing whether his gamble would pay off. He held his body stiff, his shoulders back, his head tall, trying to convey a symbol of strength. There was nothing he could do about the faint splotches covering his neck or the slight yellowish tinge to his skin, but he hoped the late hour of the day would conceal the signs of his weakened condition. After what seemed a significant passage of time, Freyna nodded curtly at Chris in acknowledgement, ordering, "Stand down. For now." More grumbling could be heard as the valkyries reluctantly lowered their weapons. Turning back to face Chris, Freyna said, "We tracked them here. They killed Kate. We will have justice."

Knowing he would need to stall for time until he could think of a way out of the situation they were in, Chris acknowledged the valkyrie's concession. His eyes seeking out for the leader of the other side, his gaze alit on a conveniently familiar face, "Sheridan. You have anything to say?"

"We didn't kill anyone. And certainly not a valkyrie. Do you think we're stupid?" Jenny Sheridan bit out each word. If she was afraid, she certainly didn't give any sign as such. "They're the ones with all the magic, not us."

"Filthy lying humans!" One of the valkyries rushed forward, her sword swinging over her head.

Gasping in horror, Sheridan automatically threw her hands up to protect herself even while acknowledging in her head the futility of the gesture. Before either side could move, the valkyrie was picked up and _slammed_ back against her kin to their great surprise.

All eyes turned to Chris, whose arm dropped back down against his side, his chest inflating and deflating as he breathed heavily. Sweat was beading on his forehead, "I won't warn you again, Freyna."

_:What happens if the valkyries won't listen?_ Leo heard Piper's voice echo in his head as Les kept the three of them somehow telepathically connected.

A pause. _:They'll listen to Chris. They respect him.:_

As the valkyries gathered around their fallen sister to help her up, Freyna's eyes never left Chris'. She gestured at her sisters, "Do NOT move unless I give the order."

"Where is the body?" Chris demanded.

Freyna shook her head, "She told me that she had a meeting. But she never came back. That was three days ago. So we began a search for her. And it led us here."

"How do you know it was these mortals who are responsible for killing Kate if there isn't even a body?" Chris' tone was deadly quiet.

Freyna pointed at a man cowering in fear on the other side who was clearly trying to disappear into the crowd. She spat in disgust in face of such cowardice, "He wears our sister's amulet."

_:And what about the humans? Sheridan certainly isn't on our side in our time.: _Leo questioned, holding his breath.

_:She may not like Chris, but she respects him. He's respected by both sides. If either side will listen at all, it'll be Chris they listen to, and no one else.:_

Slowly, Chris swivelled to face the man. In his fifties, Chris could see the individual was mentally challenged. Sympathetic of the man's condition, nonetheless, Chris did not display any emotion outwardly, knowing how closely the valkyries were watching him. Now would not be the time to be accused of prejudice. Prompting softly, "How did you come by the amulet?"

Casting nervous looks around him, the man babbled, "I found it, I did! In the streets. What's mine is mine. Finders keepers!" Clutching his hands around the gemstone, the man's eyes were wild as he insisted, "I won't let you have it! I won't let you have it!"

"No valkyrie would abandon her amulet! How else do you explain his coming by our sister's necklace?" Freyna scoffed in disbelief.

"You calling him a liar?" Sheridan sneered, ready to defend her fellow human. "Look at him! He's got a mental illness. How could someone like him take on one of your high and mighty valkyries? Or are you just stupid?"

Freyna turned her cold stare on Sheridan, "I don't like you."

Sheridan's eyes narrowed, "News flash. I don't care."

"Sheridan! Enough," Chris growled. "Freyna, take your sisters home," Chris ordered, knowing the situation was sitting on a potential powder keg. "Now."

She looked at him in disbelief, "We will have justice!"

Turning his hardened gaze on the valkyrie, Chris said evenly, "And you will. I promise you, I will find out what happened to Kate. But I will not let you persecute someone prematurely just because you're out for blood."

"And if it found the human is responsible?" Freyna demanded.

"If the human is responsible, we will deal with it in accordance with our laws," Chris replied, his low voice carrying clearly across to both groups.

"Unacceptable," Freyna retorted. "If the human is found responsible, he will be dealt with by _our_ laws."

Knowing valkyrie laws meant certain death if the man had indeed killed their sister, Chris tried to appeal to Freyna's soft side, playing on his friendship with the valkyries, "She was my sister too."

At Chris' soft tone, Freyna nodded slowly, hearing the truth in Chris' voice, "You have always been our brother in arms."

"Then trust me to handle this. To bring the guilty party of this crime to justice and to bear a punishment acceptable to you and yours," Chris bargained. Staring into his eyes, Chris could see his plea was working.

"Just a minute here…," Sheridan spoke up, her voice still filled with anger. "I'm not sure we agree with that."

Sheridan's voice served to break the spell of Chris' plea and the valkyrie snapped to attention. Her anger returning, Freyna narrowed her eyes at the human woman before saying sharply to Chris, "You have five days to find out who killed our sister and bring them to justice. Five days." Turning on her heel, she gestured for her brethren to follow her.

Chris sighed, knowing it was the best compromise he would get from the valkyries.

"And then what?" Sheridan pushed her way forward to stand next to Chris, yelling after the retreating backs of the valkyries. "What happens after five days?"

"Does that woman _ever_ learn when to shut up?" Piper murmured to Leo, leaning into him.

Without turning around to face Sheridan, Freyna paused. Her voice carried clearly in the still air, "If Chris fails in his task, rest assured, we will be back to mete out justice."

And with that, they left.

* * *

With the valkyries gone, Chris reassessed the situation quickly. The crowd behind him was murmuring, their pointed glances in Leo and Piper's direction making Chris distinctly uncomfortable. Shooting glances at his parents, "Go back to HQ. Now." 

Opening her mouth to argue, Piper snapped her mouth shut at Chris' look. Clasping Leo's hand, she nodded reluctantly, "Don't be long. We still have things to discuss."

As Leo's blue orbs signalled their departure, Chris returned his attention to the task at hand which wasn't hard, given Jenny Sheridan was on the war path and he was currently standing in the middle of it.

"Who gave you the right to make promises on our behalf?" Sheridan demanded angrily of Chris. "Who even asked you here? You think you can just butt your nose into everything? You're not the leader here. _We_ are," indicating the humans who were gathered around her.

Seeing the fear for her fellow citizens, Chris reigned in his annoyance, patiently explaining, "And if I hadn't shown up? You guys likely would be locked in a battle with the valkyries right now. Is that what you want?"

Jenny Sheridan checked her temper. Knowing Chris as she did, she knew he had a valid point. "I guess we'll never know, will we?" Jenny said, a little ungraciously, still grappling with her irritation over how Chris had swept in and took over the situation. "I'm not happy about this. At all. There is no way we're handing that poor man over to the valkyries. No matter what you find."

Running his hand through his hair in frustration, Chris sighed, "Can we cross that bridge when we get there?"

"There's no where _to_ get, Chris," Jenny pointed out. "I've told you, we won't hand over one of our own. End of story."

Chris nodded wearily, "We'll make sure the valkyries understand that. You have my word. But we need to find out what happened to Kate."

Measuring Chris' words, Jenny finally nodded. "All right. I'm trusting you here, Chris."

Chris nodded, acknowledging the generous gesture, "I know. Thank you." As he turned to leave, he motioned to Les, pausing as Jenny threw out one final question.

"Chris – wait," Jenny jogged forward, leaning in towards the whitelighter and his friend, her voice low so it wouldn't carry across to the crowd behind her. "How did you know we needed your help?"

Chris shrugged, before orbing out, "Whitelighter. Apparently he was in the neighbourhood. He got injured too. Arrow in the shoulder."

"See? I told you. Can't trust the buggers…they have spies among us."

Jenny jumped as a voice in her ear whispered. Whipping her head around, Jenny glared at Jeremiah who had clearly followed her to listen in on the private conversation, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Crossing his arms to look at her sceptically, "Then why are you so worried?"

* * *

_Back at headquarters…_

At the tinkling of orbs, Paige jerked her head up to the sight of Leo and Piper orbing in. "Hey. Where's Chris?"

"He's coming," Leo said reassuringly. Looking at Lilah, "What about your friend? Is he okay?"

Lilah nodded, "He's fine. I patched him up and sent him off."

Phoebe nodded, "Ben was by earlier to retrieve the arrow. He's going to test it to see if it's a darklighter arrow or not."

Piper's eyebrow rose, "Very C.S.I."

Lilah grinned, "We try." Turning serious, "Chris have things under control?"

Leo nodded, "I think so. I mean, it certainly seemed so. We wouldn't have left otherwise."

Lilah nodded sagely, "That's good."

Trading glances with her husband, Piper decided now was the opportunity to voice her concerns while they had Lilah alone, "I was…I mean, we were just wondering…"

"Yes?" Lilah prompted.

"I'm not sure I've had time to process everything," Piper confessed. Her lower lip quivered, "I'm still trying to wrap my head around Chris' condition. Maybe you could…help us understand?"

Leo inhaled deeply, releasing a shaky breath. "I don't think I can get used to the idea that my son is slowly dying."

"He mentioned…he said you've been helping him," Piper stumbled over the words, trying to articulate her fears into a coherent thought. As Lilah looked at Piper questioningly, Piper swallowed worries, "With the pain. Is there? I mean...is there pain? A lot?"

Lilah looked uncomfortable, "I don't…I'm not sure we should be talking about this."

"You're his doctor, for all intents and purposes, right?" Piper pointed out, her voice pleading. At Lilah's hesitant nod, Piper continued, "And I'm his mother. Of course we should be talking about this."

"I think…it should really come from Chris," Lilah hedged.

"You know he won't tell me the truth. Please, Lilah. I'm begging you. I…we need to know what our son is dealing with," Piper's voice broke under all the emotion.

Drawing in a slow breath, Lilah studied the concerned faces of Chris' parents. Oh, she knew Piper was right – Chris would admit nothing, not wanting to appear weak. He had suffered silently for weeks before he had finally approached herself for pain medication. It had driven her crazy – he had rather suffer than ask for her help and show his vulnerability. He had rather pretend he was perfectly fine than to reveal failing health. In fact, he would rather ignore his illness and impending death by keeping busy than admit his need for simple human comfort. Weighing all of this in her head, Lilah acknowledged the truth of Piper's statement, "He's very sick."

Gripping on to Leo's hand like a life line, Piper whispered, "I know." In the background, she could feel her sisters move to stand behind her in support.

"My healing can only alleviate the pain for a little while. Better than the pain medication but not as long lasting," Lilah sagged against the nearby wall, her head tilting back as she closed her eyes as the knowledge of Chris' condition weighed heavily on her. "It's why we've been administering him a combination of both." Her eyes still closed, she paused, gathering herself, knowing his family needed her to continue. "His body is literally breaking down. His organs will eventually shut down one by one. It will hurt like hell."

Lilah's eyes opened to meet Piper's, "And then he'll die."

To be continued…


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry – one of the scenes had me stumped for awhile. Enjoy!

Thanks go to: Starry Sky 44, chattypandagurl, Charmed Ravenclaw, Musely, girl-with-the-green-eyes, mjp3, Nicole, connor, icanthinkofafnick.

**

* * *

The End of All Things**

**Chapter 7**

Even as the blue orbs formed, Piper could hear Chris' voice ringing loud and clear.

And he sounded annoyed.

"Take DJ with you. And Kyle. Find out everything you can from that man. I need to know how he came across that amulet," Chris was saying, as he and Les materialized in front of his family.

As the two humans fully formed, Les nodded, "Understood. But I don't – Chris!" Alarmed, Les quickly reached out to grab Chris' arm, as his friend lurched unsteadily as they touched down.

Before Chris could say a word, Piper and Leo rushed forward, each grasping an arm of their son, worry clearly etched on their faces. Supporting their son, they gently steered him towards the nearby couch where he collapsed.

Fear for her son caused Piper's voice to emerge shrilly, "Chris! What's wrong with you?" Rounding on Lilah who quickly knelt in front of her patient, "What's wrong with him!"

"Mom," Chris interrupted, his eyes closed. "It's okay. _I'm_ okay. Just winded." He shook off Lilah's attempts to heal him, "It's exhaustion, that's all. I had to use my powers."

Lilah straightened, frowning at her charge, "What did I tell you before, Chris? You can't keep using your powers. You have to save your energy. If we're going to beat this thing, you've got to keep your strength up."

Chris winced at Lilah's sharp tone, "Believe me when I tell you I didn't have much choice in the matter."

"He's right. We just barely avoided an all out fight between the humans and the valkyries," Les backed up Chris, his tone weary.

"What?" Phoebe blinked. "What do you mean, you barely avoided a fight?"

Clearly exhausted, Chris folded his arms on his knees, hunching over to rest his forehead on his arms. His voice was muffled, "One of the humans found Kate's amulet. There is no way Kate would have parted with that amulet willingly. Now the valkyries are out for blood."

Paige and Phoebe looked desperately at Les in confusion.

"Kate is…was…the leader of the valkyries. She disappeared a couple days ago. The valkyries were tracking her and it led them to the city, where they found her amulet in the possession of a mortal. Naturally, they assumed he had something to do with her disappearance," Les explained.

"Naturally, huh?" Phoebe's eyebrow rose in scepticism. "I don't think there's anything natural about that."

"Look, the fact of the matter is they gave us five days to find out what happened to Kate," Les continued. "And we need to move, fast."

"And then what happens?" Phoebe demanded.

Les shrugged. "They didn't say. But whatever it is, it can't be good."

"Enough with the chit chat. We're running out of time." Chris raised his head, his visage still grey. "Les, get DJ and head to the city and canvass the population. I'll go with Michael to the valkyries."

"You can barely move, let alone run off to deal with the valkyries," Piper pointed out. She sat down next to her son, her voice full of concern, "Isn't there anyone else who can go?"

Chris shook his head slowly. "No, it has to be me."

Before Piper could argue, Les interrupted, "He's right, Piper. Like I mentioned before – the valkyries don't trust a lot of people. Chris is probably the only one they would be completely open and honest with, let alone allow entrance to Valhalla. And if we want to find out what happened to Kate exactly…"

"Fine, but is there any reason why we can't go with him?" Piper demanded. "There is no way we're going back to the present until things are sorted out here." Seeing Chris open his mouth to protest, Piper added strongly, "And I'm _not_ sitting on my hands until you get back from Valhalla either."

Chris rolled his eyes.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, young man," Piper lectured her son automatically, as if she had been mothering Chris his entire life. "We came here to help, and by God, we're going to help you if it's the last thing we do."

"Actually, we came here to make sure Chris and Wyatt were okay, but who's asking," Phoebe muttered under her breath.

As Les choked on his laughter, he quickly swallowed his amusement as Piper turned her glare in his direction. Holding up his hands in protest, he said, innocently, "I didn't say anything!"

"Hello? Can we focus here for one minute?" Chris demanded, his tone filled with annoyance. "Look, if you want to help – ,"

"Of course we do," Paige nodded assertively as she glanced at both her sisters who nodded vigorously.

"Then," Chris continued, glowering at Paige's interruption, "I think you, Phoebe, Mom and Dad should check out if the magical beings know anything." As the quartet in question began to sputter protests, Chris held up his hand for patience. "Think about it. The magical beings may have heard something. And Riley knows you. And so do the ogres and wood nymphs, right? Didn't you help them at one time, Paige?"

"Well, yeah," Paige agreed, slight confused. "So?"

"So….they owe you," Chris drew out, obviously thinking out loud. "You could work that to your advantage. Ply on their gratitude and find out what you can, okay?"

Phoebe frowned doubtfully, "That sounds…almost like manipulation…"

"Do you want to help or not?" Chris demanded harshly. "We're talking about a life at stake here. Isn't that worth a little manipulation?"

Alarmed as the colour came and went in her son's face, Piper placed a calming hand on Chris' arm, "Of course it is. Chris, relax, honey. Everything is going to be okay."

Chris shook his mother's hand off, agitated, "Everything is _not_ okay, Mom. We've got five days…_five days_ to figure out what happened to Kate. Or there's going to be an all out war."

"We'll figure it out, Chris," Les replied firmly. "I'm going to get some stuff together, grab DJ and head out." Squeezing Chris' shoulder tightly, Les repeated, "We'll figure this out."

Chris nodded, waving Les away distractedly. "Go. If you need to get in touch with me, Jack's the liaison for the valkyries. You can reach me through him."

Moving towards the door, Les left the room, nodding to the others on his way out.

Clearing her throat, Lilah decided to take her leave as well, "I've a meeting I need to get to. Chris – remember what I said. You have to take it easy."

Chris acknowledged the advice, nodding, "I hear you."

"Then why do I think you still won't listen to what I've said?" Lilah looked heavenward. She swung her gaze to Chris' parents as she passed them on the way out, "Maybe he'll listen to you."

"Oh, he'll listen to me," Piper assured the whitelighter grimly.

"Uh…I'll be right back," Phoebe edged her way towards the door. "I just need to…uh…grab…something and then we can be on our way to see the forest nymphs." And before her sisters could stop her, she dashed out the door.

"Where do you think she's going?" Piper demanded, first glaring at Leo who shrugged. She then swung her gaze to Paige, who was studying the floor, wisely keeping her speculations to herself.

"It doesn't matter," Chris controlled the urge to roll his eyes again. Summoning his strength, he forced himself to get up off the couch, wincing slightly. He held himself perfectly still as he waited for the room to stop spinning.

Piper frowned in concern at her son, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to go off by yourself."

"I'm not going off by myself," Chris pointed out tiredly. He swallowed his queasiness as the room finally righted itself. "I'm taking Michael and we're meeting up with Jack."

"But you're not suppose to be using your powers," Leo argued. "Your mother's right. And so is Lilah. You shouldn't be going yourself."

Chris rolled his eyes, this time completely unable to help himself. "How would you like me to go then? It's not like Michael can orb us there. And there aren't any whitelighters to spare, what with all the demons still on the loose. We're spread thin as it is."

"I'm going with you," Leo said firmly, cutting off Chris' arguments. "It's non-negotiable, Chris. You heard Lilah – you shouldn't be using your powers. I'll orb you wherever you need to go. The sisters can handle the other magical beings on their own." Leo's tone clearly communicated he was not going to argue about this.

"Fine," Chris said sharply, his tone rankled. "Just remember, I'm in charge."

Leo exchanged a sharp look with Piper as she opened her mouth to protest this change in plans, her mouth snapping shut reluctantly. His eyes sliding back to his son, Leo said evenly, "Fine."

"Then let's go get Michael, " Moving towards the door, Chris turned back impatiently as he waited for his father to accompany him. "Dad?"

Leaning forward, Leo wrapped his arms around Piper in a strong hug, whispering in her ear, "Don't worry. I'll take care of him, Piper. I promise."

Nodding reluctantly, Piper returned the squeeze, "Just…you…be careful. And if you need me…"

Leo smiled into Piper's eyes as he released her from their embrace, "I'll holler for Paige, don't you worry."

The two parents looked at each other, silently exchanging all their fears, hopes and promises with that single glance. Nodding farewell, Leo jogged towards where Chris was waiting, placing his hand on Chris' arm. "Let's go."

As two of the most important men in her life turned the corner, Piper swiped at her eyes. Drawing in a shuddering breath, she turned towards Paige, "All right. Let's get Phoebe and get out of here."

Paige's eyebrow rose in question.

Piper shrugged, "The faster we find out who did this, the more time will have to try and help Chris."

"Piper…" Paige began hesitantly, "You heard what Lilah said. There…there isn't a cure for Chris' illness."

Rounding on her sister, Piper bit out, "I refuse to believe that, Paige! After everything this family has gone through? There _has_ to be a way to cure Chris. And, by God, we're going to find it."

Knowing her sister needed her full support, Paige held back her true feelings, replying, "If there's a way, I know we'll find it."

Eyeing her sister suspiciously, Piper finally nodded, "All right. Let's get Phoebe."

* * *

The door opened with a bang.

Without bothering to shut the door, Les entered his room, rushing over to his dresser. Rooting through his drawers, he smiled triumphantly as his hand closed around the strap of a small backpack. Tossing it onto the nearby bed, he moved towards his shelves, searching for potions to take with him. After all, although San Francisco was populated with humans, it never hurt to be prepared.

_The question is, prepared for what?_

Les sighed. Chris was right. Things were deteriorating quickly and were only going to get worse if they didn't find out what had happened to Kate. And worse, if it WAS true that the old man had had a hand in it…well, it didn't bear thinking what the valkyries would do on their thirst for vengeance.

_Hell! Just once, just once I wish things would go our way!_

And then there was Phoebe.

He hadn't said much more than ten words to her, but he had been excruciatingly aware of her. Aware of her gaze on him, aware of the way her eyes followed him, aware of the way she tilted her head…When he'd headed out to see what the magical disturbance in sector seven was, the last thing he had expected was the Charmed Ones. Just the sight of her, a smudge of dirt on her cheek, her eyes blazing with humour at his discomfort while Piper accused him of being a fishwife(!) had made his insides tighten uncomfortably.

Uncomfortably because he knew nothing could ever come of his feelings for her. He smiled bitterly. It was too cliché…two people from different worlds or in their case, two different times. It was almost…farcical.

If it didn't hurt quite so much.

How pathetic was he? Turning maudlin, mourning something he'd never even had, wishing for things that could never, ever, be. The world was on a collision course for disaster, and here he was, selfishly thinking about his (nonexistent) love life.

He snorted. _Concentrate, soldier!_ he thought grimly. _You've got a job to do._

Firmly shoving the image of Phoebe from his mind, Les continued to pack, stuffing potions bottles wherever he could. So she was pretty…there were lots of other pretty girls out there too, right? It wasn't like she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. And didn't she have some kind of mole on her cheek? Marring that otherwise flawless, porcelain skin…

_Oh hell_, Les thought to himself, rolling his eyes. _Have I got it bad._

Besides, it wasn't a physical attraction. _Or just a physical reaction_, he thought wryly. He also loved her for her intelligence, her kindness, her loyalty…she cared so much about her family. Something he strongly admired.

But it didn't matter. Because they weren't meant to be together.

And never would be.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

There, standing in the doorway, was the girl of his dreams.

"Les?"

* * *

"Michael's room is just down the hall," Chris threw over his shoulder as he led Leo down the dimly lit corridor. "He…" A wave of dizziness hit the young man, causing him to blindly reach out for support.

"Chris!" Leo sprang forward, alarmed, as Chris started to slump against the wall.

"I'm okay," Chris muttered, his eyes closed as he breathed heavily. He allowed himself to continue leaning against the wall as he fought the nausea that swirled up threatening to engulf him. He swallowed convulsively, tasting saltiness. At the melodic sound of whitelighter healing, Chris' eyes popped open as he glared at his father, "I said I'm fine."

"You know, it's okay to accept help," Leo murmured, unperturbed by Chris' black mood.

Chris hesitated before saying simply, "I know."

"Do you? I seem to remember a certain witch-whitelighter who travelled to the past but wouldn't tell anyone what he was doing there. He wanted to 'protect' everyone, and ended up trying to bear the burden alone," Leo pointed out as the glow from his hands continued to pulse.

"Really? You've never mentioned him before," Chris replied innocently, a little more easily as Leo's healing did the trick.

"Don't be a smart ass."

Chris rolled his eyes. Funny, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "I'm not."

"Oh really?" Leo replied, quirking his eyebrow at Chris.

"Well, not entirely," Chris sighed. Pushing his father's hands away, he righted himself and continued down the hallway slowly. "Okay, maybe just a little," Chris admitted. He looked over at his father who continued to walk serenely next to him. "I just…I'm not…"

Leo looked at him in concern.

"I'm not use to…that is, to say…I can take care of myself, okay?" Chris' breath came out in a rush.

"Chris. We're your parents. I'm your parent. We want to help you," Leo tried to look stern. "Get used to it."

Chris nodded awkwardly, "Message received."

Leo smiled at his son sceptically, "But does that mean you'll let me help you?"

"I'm letting you come with me now," Chris said carefully, in way of a reply.

"That's not what I meant, Chris," Leo frowned, fully aware that Chris was expertly skirting the issue.

"I know," Chris rubbed his forehead wearily. "And yes – I'll let you help me. After all, it's not like I have a lot of choice in the matter," he added a little bitterly.

"Chris." Leo reached out to stop his son, forcing him to look Leo in the eyes. "You're going to get better. I promise."

Chris shook his head slowly, "Don't. Just…don't. Don't make promises you can't keep. It's not fair to me…or you."

Hearing the edge in his son's voice, Leo's own was heartbroken, "Chris…"

"Dad. Not now. We've got bigger things at issue here," Chris brushed off Leo's hand. He saw the pain and the hurt in Leo's eyes…for him. "Look," Chris sighed wearily, "… everything will be okay. I promise."

Leo's smile was forced, "Didn't you just tell me not to make promises you can't keep?"

For a brief moment, the pain and weariness seemed to leave Chris' face as his grin turned devilish, "This is one promise I'll keep."

_

* * *

_

_Somewhere in the sewers beneath the city…_

Elise's nose wrinkled at the disgusting smell of the stale water. _Just what the hell have I gotten myself into?_

She paused, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Moving forward, she winced, the light splashes of water echoing off the walls sounded like the bellow of cannons as she waded through the knee deep water of the tunnel. She grimaced, stumbling, as her foot made contact with something underneath the murky darkness of the flooded passageway. Biting her lip to keep from crying out loud in fright, she pushed forward, her irritation and annoyance growing with every step through the abandoned tunnels.

The tunnels, used by the Resistance in the not so distant past, ran amok underneath the city. Still in disrepair, the emergency lighting barely gave off enough light to illuminate the patchwork of tunnels crisscrossing underground. The tunnels had all been abandoned once the war was over – likely because most of the population who had had to remain underground couldn't bring themselves to return there once it was no longer necessary.

_Which makes it the perfect place for a clandestine meeting, I guess._ Elise thought to herself rather dryly. She winced again as she felt her boot hit something squishy. _Why, oh why can't these things happen somewhere dry and sunny?_

_So what am I doing here again?_ Elise rolled her eyes, as the hand she had feeling along the wall encountered something slimy. As Sheridan had requested, Elise had been hitting up all her old contacts, trying to discreetly find out who the leak was. One name had kept coming up. However, all she had to go on was heresay and she was too good a reporter to bring it to Sheridan without hard core proof. So here she was – out getting proof.

Elise had to admit, it was kind of fun. It had been a long time since she'd pounded the pavement, so to speak. She'd earned her stripes as a street reporter before landing the cushy job as editor for the Bay Mirror, all before the war. After waiting patiently for responses to all the little hooks she'd put out, she'd finally gotten a nibble. One of her more reliable sources had tipped her off to the secret meeting. Now, if she could only find the bloody place…

Abruptly, she came to a halt as her ears began to pick up something…

"Did we have to meet here of all places?" a man's voice asked.

Edging forward very slowly, Elise held her breath. She blinked. Facing her, the illumination from the emergency lighting was just enough to let Elise identify the man who had spoken.

"And where would you suggest we meet? The no orbing spell applies to demons as well. I can't shimmer into the city. This was the only meeting place we could both get to without you raising any suspicions," his companion pointed out tiredly.

The hair on Elise's neck stood up. _Did he just say 'shimmer?' He must be a demon…_

The man's tone was doubtful, "I guess."

"Enough," the demon replied, dismissing the other's concerns with a disdainful wave of his hand. "Tell me what has happened."

"As you predicted, the valkyries were sure the humans were responsible for the disappearance of their leader."

The demon hissed. "But not enough to engage them…"

"No, they were going to. I'm sure of it. But the Halliwell kid managed to control the situation before it got out of hand."

"…"

"My lord?"

The demon's tone seemed to drip with disgust, causing shivers to run up and down Elise's spine, "Never mind. And the others? Sheridan?"

_If only he would turn around,_ Elise thought, her reporter's curiosity getting the better of her. _If I could just get a good look at him…_

"Completely clueless. She knows only what I want her to know," was the boastful answer. "I tell you, I have everything under control. Most of the humans are already prone to distrust. I only had to plant a seed here and there. The ID card is just one already bearing fruit."

_I knew it!_ Elise thought triumphantly. _I knew something fishy was going on. What did we use to say in the newsroom? If it smelled like a fish…_

His back still to her, the demon nodded thoughtfully, "Good. The greater distrust you can create, the easier it will be when the time comes…"

_Time to get back and tell Sheridan what I know_, Elise frowned, still annoyed that she couldn't identify the demon. Never mind, she'd identified the leak – that was all that mattered. She'd let Sheridan handle the plugging. Carefully she began to edge back towards the way she came.

"…I will reward you greatly," the demon suddenly broke off. "Did you hear something?"

"No, I –,"

"Shhhh!" the demon whipped around, bringing his index finger to his lips, his eyes searching the darkness.

_Shit!_ Elise's heart jumped into her mouth, her blood turning to ice in her veins. _Oh please, God…_

The demon's eyes swept slowly back and forth, studying the shadows of the tunnels.

"There's nothing there," his companion scoffed. "You're starting at shadows."

The demon relaxed from his position, his hand dropping back to his side.

Elise let out a silent breath of relief.

The demon smiled.

"I wouldn't be so quick if I were you," he drawled.

_Oh fuck…_

* * *

She studied him from beneath her lashes as he seemed to glance up at her in surprise. His brown hair was untidy, an obvious sign that he'd been running his hand through it in frustration. His eyes were clear as they met hers, as clear as on the day she'd first met him, back in the past.

Except…his gaze had been…warm.

Then.

It was probably just her imagination.

"Hi," Phoebe looked around uncertainly, "Can I come in?"

She watched as he opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. The awkward silence between them grew. Phoebe continued to look at him expectantly, when finally he cleared his throat rather loudly, "Of course."

Looking at him curiously, his hands full of potion bottles, Phoebe blinked, "What are you doing?"

"Packing," Les said, rather gruffly. Placing the bottles carefully into his backpack, "Look, I'm kind of in a hurry. Is there something you wanted?"

She flinched at his tone. She hadn't really thought out what she was doing when she'd left the others to seek out Les. She only knew that she had to. Something in her had drawn her to him, wanting to see him and to talk to him, without everyone else listening in. And now that she had what she wanted, she wasn't sure what to do. Phoebe's eyes slid towards the floor, studying her shoes. "I just…I thought…"

Les sighed, "What? What did you think, Phoebe?"

"I thought…maybe…we could…talk," Phoebe replied hesitantly.

Les laughed rather harshly, "Really? And what did you want to talk about?"

Phoebe floundered. This wasn't how she had envisioned this going. Back in the past, she was sure that they had connected…but here…it seemed like Les was different. "Back in the past…you…I mean, you weren't…I thought…"

"What? What do you want from me, Phoebe?" Les glared at her. "Spit it out."

"Don't you yell at me!" Feeling her own anger rise at Les' tone, Phoebe glared back, "I just wanted to see you. Is that so bad?"

"Jesus," Les swore passionately, turning his back on her for a second before swinging back around to meet her eyes. "Phoebe. There's a situation going on." Les held up his index finger and thumb a mere inch apart, "We're this close to having everything explode in our faces. Now isn't the time."

Phoebe threw her hands up in the air, slightly irritated by his response. "Don't you think I know that? But when is the time? I can't go on like this." Phoebe motioned with her hands the space between her and Les, "There's this…connection…between you and me. And I just…I just need you to acknowledge it."

"Don't you think I feel the same way?" Letting out a deep breath, Les shook his head. "Phoebe. Nothing could ever happen between you and me. We're, literally, from two different times. But having you here…in my time…with me…I know you have to go back to your time. And that I have to stay here." He shook his head. "This isn't easy for me."

"It isn't easy for me either," Phoebe whispered back. She decided to put her heart on the line. "But…I just wanted you to know…I miss you."

Silence.

"I guess…I guess I'll be going," Phoebe laughed weakly, motioning towards the door, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. "All those leprechauns and fairies to question – "

Les' arm snaked out to grab Phoebe's waist to stop her from leaving. She glanced up at him, startled, "Les?"

He bent his head, touching his forehead to hers, his low voice sending chills down her spine, "I miss you too."

Phoebe smiled tearfully, "That's all I wanted to hear." She looked up at him, his eyes reflecting all her hopes and fears back at her. The future was uncertain, but Phoebe knew right here and right now, this was where she was meant to be.

She would think about the consequences tomorrow

Tilting her head up, she grabbed both sides of his head with her hands, pulling him towards her. "That's all I needed to hear."

And they kissed.

* * *

To be continued…

_The body count continues to increase as Chris, Leo, Les and the Charmed Ones try to find out what exactly happened to Kate…_


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Wrote this entire chapter in two sittings listening to Ryan Adams so I apologize if the dialogue is a little twangy.

Thanks go to: Starry Sky 44, girl-with-the-green-eyes, Charmed Ravenclaw, mjp3, icantthinkofafnick and Sparkling Cherries. Thanks for sticking with me. I think my writer's block is finally starting to lift.

**

* * *

The End of All Things**

**Chapter 8**

* * *

It was pouring.

The rain was coming down in thick sheets, instantly drenching the trio as they orbed just outside the gates to the city. Overhead, the grey overcast of the clouds filtered out any hope of sunlight, instead casting a depressing dreariness over the entire landscape.

The 'gateway' to New San Francisco stood imposingly in front of the three friends, the erected ironwork stretching a somewhat tall 20 feet above their heads.

Les looked at his companions to his left and then his right, "So…think someone is expecting us?"

Kyle shrugged while DJ sighed, clearly about as enthusiastic about being there as getting his teeth pulled, "Let's just get this over with."

Waving his hands trying to attract attention, Les yelled out, "Hey! Anyone there? Hello?"

A slight movement caught his eye as a head popped up and peered over the top of the gate. "Yeah? What do you want?"

"Friendly, aren't they?" Les muttered under his breath. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he responded loudly, "We're from the Resistance. Sheridan's expecting us."

Overhead, the man's head disappeared for a couple minutes before reappearing, "Where's your ID?"

"Oh for Christ's sakes," Les mumbled, thoroughly irritated. Fumbling in his pockets, he patted his pants pocket for his newly minted papers as his companions did the same. As his fingers latched onto the laminated card, he flipped it vaguely towards the border guard, wondering how the hell the man expected to see it from his vantage point to verify his identity.

"Well, I can't see it from down there," the guard pointed out, crabbily.

_Well, duh…_Les thought, struggling to hold onto his wafer thin temper. "What do you want me to do then?" 

A pause, and then, "Slide it under the gate."

Glancing back at DJ and Kyle in surprise, who shrugged back in response, the trio began to approach the gateway, coming to an abrupt halt as an arrow was fired at their feet, causing them to stumble back. Mad, Les stared up at the guard, "What the fuck! Are you retarded? You told us to slide our papers under the gate!"

The man spat to one side, "Only one of you needs to do it. Tell the other two to back off!"

Les' eyes widened slightly. _This is ridiculous…if we didn't need to know what happened to Kate…_Gathering his friends' cards, Les cautiously took a step forward, ready to approach the gate again. Reaching the massive portal, he carefully knelt down, shoving the cards beneath the iron fence. Straightening, he winced, noticing the thick layer of mud sticking to his knee. Shivering in the rain, he slowly moved back towards his two friends who were eyeing the border guard suspiciously. "Well? Can we at least wait inside?" Les wanted to know. "It's bloody wet out here, in case you didn't notice."

"Hold your bloody horses," the guard snorted, completely unsympathetic. "You'll get in soon enough."

Ten minutes later, they were still waiting.

Les glanced sideways at DJ. _:This does not bode well:_ he thought telepathically, including both DJ and Kyle in his thoughts.

_:They're just nervous:_ Kyle thought back reassuringly.

_:Bloody bastards…what I want to know is what's taking them so long? It's just three pieces of paper for God's sakes:_ DJ glared angrily upwards, his hair completely matted against his head from the cold rain. He looked like a drowned rat, his clothes now plastered against his frame.

_:I suspect they're making us wait just for the fun of it:_ Les replied grimly. He shivered again as the rain managed to find its way through every opening in his clothes. Glancing at Kyle, Les had to admit he took a strange sense of satisfaction seeing the normally pristine whitelighter's white robes dripping wet. At least he wasn't the only one who was miserable.

_:But why:_ Kyle asked, bewildered.

_:For sheer anal retentiveness:_ DJ grumbled, _:That's why.:_

Choking back on his laughter, Les ended up emitting a noise somewhere between a snort and a guffaw. Seeing DJ's disgusted look only made him laugh all the harder. He quickly swallowed his amusement as the gate began to creak open. The border guard gestured at them impatiently, motioning for them to come forward. The trio quickly approached the gate, slipping inside, grateful for the guard post's shelter from the unforgiving rain.

Inside, five guards were lounging around, eyeing the three Resistance members insolently. "Guess it's raining outside, eh?" one of them observed sardonically as the others laughed rather derisively.

Les ignored the unwelcoming feeling in the pit of his stomach, narrowing his gaze on the border guard they had been dealing with. He shot the guard an unreadable look, "Are we good?"

The guard shrugged rudely, "Everything checks out." He held out the ID cards, jerking his head in the vague direction of the city hall, "These are yours. Sheridan's expecting you."

"Thanks," Les replied, his tone barely civil. _Asshole._

Retrieving their papers, the trio brushed past the guard, doing their best to ignore the man and his companions' rude behaviour. In front, the city streets were empty; the hard rain driving most sane people indoors. To their right, the scaffolding from a building under construction offered some meagre shelter from the rain. Choosing the sheltered path, even though it was the long way around, Les winced as he heard the undignified squelch of their shoes as they left puddles in their wake. He sighed, disheartened by the treatment they had just received. _What the fuck is going on?_

"What the fuck was that about?" DJ jerked his head back in the direction they had come from, voicing Les' thoughts exactly.

Kyle blinked stupidly, "What are you talking about?"

Les rolled his eyes. Did becoming a whitelighter automatically result in dropping twenty IQ points? If so, it certainly was something he hoped would never happen to him. "He's _talking_ about the jackasses back there."

"We should have kicked their asses," DJ grumbled. "Uppity bastards."

"I didn't notice anything unusual," Kyle frowned.

"You wouldn't," Les muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Kyle asked loudly over the fall of the rain.

"I _said_ – ," Les started to repeat himself, as a movement caught his eye. Stopping abruptly, Les stared off in the distance, squinting into the rain.

"Les? What is it?" DJ looked in the direction Les was staring in. Not seeing anything, he repeated his query, "Les?"

"I thought I saw something…" Les replied, moving in the direction of his gaze and indirectly, out of the meagre shelter of the scaffolding overhead.

"Hey! I thought we were suppose to see Sheridan!" Kyle protested.

"Les," DJ placed his hand on Les' shoulder to stop him. "Kyle's right. She _is_ expecting us. We should get going."

Les shrugged off DJ's hand, "You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up."

Trading glances with Kyle, DJ sighed resignedly, "All right. But be quick, okay?"

Already consumed by his curiosity, it was apparent that Les was only half-listening, "Yeah. Yeah, okay." He took the path to his left, quickly moving away from his friends as he dashed out into the pouring rain.

Giving Les' back one final look as he disappearing into the greyness of the landscape, DJ shook his head, meeting Kyle's expectant gaze, "Let's go."

* * *

Watching her sister from a few feet back, Piper turned to her other sister who was standing next to her, "So where did you go before?"

"So you're sure you don't remember her mentioning anything?" Paige was saying, standing a few feet away, her question directed at a wood nymph.

Shaking her blond hair, the wood nymph apologized, "I'm sorry I couldn't be more help."

"Hmmm?" Phoebe replied absently, not really hearing Piper's question, her eyes carefully watching the nymph's body language. "She's definitely telling the truth."

"Before," Piper said rather impatiently, turning away from the scene of Paige and the wood nymph to focus her brown eyes on her younger sister. "Back at base."

Phoebe shrugged, her eyes studiously avoiding Piper's as she pretended to be really interested in the scene unfolding in front of her. She wanted to keep the knowledge of her budding relationship with Les to herself for just a little while longer. "Nowhere, really." Besides, Phoebe could practically _hear_ Piper's arguments – _you're both from different times…how is it going to work…he's, like, ten years old in our time, Phoebe!_

_All good arguments_, _really_, Phoebe sighed. _So then why am I so happy?_

Piper rolled her eyes, "Fine. If you don't want to tell me, you could just say so."

"Fine. I don't want to tell you," Phoebe grabbed at the excuse, replying quickly.

Piper's mouth dropped open in disbelief, "But you always tell me everything."

Phoebe rolled her eyes, "You just said…"

"I know what I just said!" Piper cut her sister off. "I just –,"

Paige nodded as the nymph took her leave, "Thanks anyways." Looking at her sisters, she walked over to where they were standing, "Well, that's zero for five hundred, or there about."

Piper groaned. The sisters had tracked down every magical contact they had ever had, trying to find out if anyone knew what had happened to the valkyrie before she went missing. Although they hadn't quite questioned five hundred beings, it certainly felt like they had. "This isn't getting us anywhere," Piper groused.

"No kidding," Phoebe agreed, "and my feet are killing me." She looked around and not finding anywhere to sit, abruptly plopped down on the ground. Massaging her foot, she glanced up at her sisters, "So what now?"

Paige shrugged, counting off on her fingers, "Well, we've asked all our contacts that we know of – leprechaun, fairies, nymphs and ogres. I can't imagine who else we could ask?"

"How about the woodland creatures?" Phoebe joked, as she rotated her ankle. "Owww. Owwww!"

"Stop doing that and it won't hurt," Piper admonished her sister automatically. Rubbing her forehead wearily, "So I guess we're done here?"

Paige nodded tiredly, "I think so. And all we have is a big, fat zero. Chris is _not_ going to like this."

"Yeah, somehow I don't think he's the type of guy that takes the news of 'dead end' well," Phoebe rolled her eyes.

"Hey! That's my son you're talking about!" Piper exclaimed rather indignantly. At the looks her sisters shot her, she conceded, "Okay. Maybe a little. He _is_ rather driven."

"So should we head back to base and wait for the others?" Paige asked, looking at her watch. "What the hell time is it anyways?"

Phoebe shook her head, getting up reluctantly, "Don't bother trying to figure it out. Time travel will always give you a headache."

Piper frowned, "I'd much rather go help Chris and Leo than sit on my hands, twiddling my thumbs waiting for those two to show up."

"Sounds like a plan," Phoebe gestured at Paige. "Think you can orb us to them?"

Closing her eyes, Paige reached out with her inner sense. Nodding affirmatively, she held out her hands to her sisters, "I think I've got a lock on Leo. Come on, let's go."

Stepping forward, Phoebe and Piper each took a hand so that Paige could orb them away to Piper's erstwhile son and husband.

And as they disappeared in a swirl of orbs, Piper's voice could be heard, as she repeated her question to Phoebe.

"So where _exactly_ did you disappear to before?"

* * *

DJ and Kyle long forgotten, Les jogged down the street, doing his best to ignore the sharp sting of the icy rain. Stopping abruptly, he looked to his left and then his right. He shaded his eyes to try to keep the rain out, peering intently. The rain was coming down so hard now that he could barely see more than a couple of feet out in front of him.

The area was completely bereft of any activity.

_I'm sure…I'm sure I saw…_

Had it been his imagination? He was sure he had seen the man standing right there, but then DJ had distracted him and when he had glanced back, the stranger was gone.

_This is stupid…I'm out here, drenched to the bone in the freezing cold, chasing ghosts. And for what? Because my gut says I saw something?_

Sighing, Les turned to head back the way he had come with the hopes of catching up to his friends before he was too far behind when his foot hit something. He glanced down.

The manhole cover was slightly off, not properly in place, causing Les to trip over it slightly. Reaching down to replace it before someone else tripped over it carelessly, he noticed something sticky as he gripped the sides.

Pulling his hand away, Les blinked stupidly at his hand, the red nappy substance sticking to his fingers even as the rain began to wash it away. _What the fuck?_

Looking at the manhole again, he flung the cover aside. He'd been in too many battles, seen too many friends die, to not know the substance for what it was.

Blood.

Wiping his hands on his pants, he ignored the red streaks and following his instincts, he quickly clambered down the ladder into the sewers. Dropping lightly the last couple of rungs, he winced as his feet landed with a splash. _Good thing I'm already wet._ His nose wrinkling from the putrid smell, Les yanked the collar of his shirt over his nose and began to breath through his mouth. The gas lighting of the tunnels gave off a low light, highlighting the shadowy darkness. _At least I'm out of the rain…_

"Hello?" Les called out. "Anyone down here?" The only response he received was his echo and grimacing, Les shrugged, and randomly picked a direction.

_I guess I can always double back_, Les sighed. _Why do I always have to be so damn curious?_ Remembering the blood on his hand, he could only imagine that someone was in trouble and could seriously need his help.

Sheridan would have to wait.

Wading forward, Les touched a spot on the wall, his hand coming back with more blood. Grimly, he began to enter the tunnels, hoping that whoever he found was still alive.

He never noticed the gleaming pair of eyes that bore into his back.

* * *

"Do you even know what you're looking for?" Leo asked, sceptically.

Chris shot an annoyed glance at his father, "If I knew what I was looking for, I would know who killed Kate, wouldn't I?"

They were in the middle of the forest, on the outskirts of Valhalla. As promised, Leo had orbed himself, Chris and Michael to the valkyries home. Although not exactly happy to see them, the valkyries had reluctantly allowed Chris and his companions' unrestricted access to Valhalla, trusting in Chris' reassurances and their friendship with the young Halliwell. Leo had been impressed. The valkyries were notorious for distrusting any and all outside of their own. But Chris was accorded an acceptance by the warrior women that was rare and virtually unheard of; Leo didn't even know any Elders who had received that privilege.

Watching Chris move slowly through the forest, Leo wondered once again what they were doing in the wilderness. Michael had disappeared into the nearby village with Jack, the Resistance's liaison with the valkyries, who had come to meet them. Chris had assigned the two to question the valkyries in an effort to trace Kate's last steps before indicating that he was going to take a look around. As the pair took their leave, Leo had trailed after his son into the nearby forest, reluctant to allow him out of his sight.

"Do you think it was wise for Michael and Jack to be on their own?" Leo questioned, as Chris carefully knelt in the grass.

Reaching out with his hand, Chris picked up some dirt between his fingers, rubbing it between his index finger and thumb thoughtfully, replying, somewhat absentmindedly, "Huh?"

"Michael and Jack," Leo repeated again, patiently. "Shouldn't you have gone with them to question the valkyries? I mean, that's what we came here to do, right?"

"Hmmmm…" Chris ignored Leo, his concentration focused on the ground. Shifting forward, he tilted his head to the left and then to the right, seeing something only he could see.

"Chris!" Leo moved around his son to stand in front of him, clearly blocking his path. "What about Michael and Jack?"

Sighing reluctantly, Chris rose to his feet to face his father, "They'll be fine. Michael's got a cop's instinct. He was a rookie in the S.F.P.D. before everything went down. And Jack will back him up. They've worked together before. They know the routine. They don't need us." Edging around Leo, "Do you mind?"

Stepping to one side, Leo shook his head in confusion, "So if Michael and Jack can question the valkyries on their own, what are we doing here? Shouldn't you be getting some rest then?"

"Mmmmmm…" Chris reply was incoherent, his attention clearly focused elsewhere. He began to jog forward lightly, stopping every once and awhile to change his direction slightly. "Did you know Kate liked to walk these forests? She always said it helped clear her mind."

Trailing after his son, Leo watched Chris' antics puzzled. "Chris?"

Hearing the question in his father's voice, his concentration momentarily broken, Chris turned back to face Leo. "See that?" Chris pointed at a nearby bush, "The branches are broken. It means something or someone came through here."

Leo blinked. "You're tracking Kate?"

Chris shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't know that it's Kate, exactly." He motioned to Leo to come closer, pointing towards the ground, "But the size of the shoe prints match Kate's, and the depression seems to match what her weight and height would be." Sighing, he pointed out something else, "It's this second set of tracks that worry me."

Leo looked at his son in astonishment, "How do you know all these things?"

Chris' eyes slid away from Leo's, "Bianca taught me."

At the mention of his son's dead fiancé, the former assassin, Leo nodded knowingly. An assassin would have to know how to track her prey so it made sense that it was a skill the woman would have had. However, Leo wasn't sure how he felt that she had obviously taught Chris the skill. What other assassin skills would she have taught him?

"How to defend myself," Chris replied shortly.

"What? How did you know I was thinking…" Leo sputtered.

"It was clear by your expression," Chris said emotionlessly. "You were wondering what other nefarious skills Bianca taught me. Like how to kill. Right?"

Leo coughed uncomfortably, "I just…she…she was an _assassin_, Chris."

"I know what she _was_, Dad. It wasn't a secret or anything," Chris fingered the bark of a nearby tree, his hand slowly caressing it. "Someone came by here. Recently."

Trying to keep up with his son's jump in topics, "I just…I mean…I…" Leo stuttered, trying to voice his thoughts properly, "I understand you needed those skills. And I…appreciate that she was able to teach you…_them_. But…but I wish…I wish you didn't need to learn."

"Ostrich in the sand was never my forte," Chris ran his fingers along the ground, his entire being focused on the task at hand. He said, without rancour, "That was more yours, I believe."

Leo winced.

Chris sighed. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. It's not like you even know what I'm talking about."

"I would if you shared," Leo replied rather quickly.

Chris snorted, "You know my answer to that."

"Future consequences," Leo shook his head. "I have to admit, even _I'm_ starting to find that excuse wearing thin." When Chris didn't answer him, Leo prompted, "Isn't there anything you could tell me?"

Chris' tone was guarded, "You know I can't."

"I'm not talking about something that could be impacted by future consequences, Chris!" Leo said, slightly exasperated. "I'm talking about you. Tell me something about you."

"There's nothing to tell," Chris responded, rather gruffly.

Leo tried to ignore the sharp pain in his heart at Chris' tone. He longed for a good relationship with his son, and while it appeared Chris had set aside his resentments, it was clear they were a long way from the father son relationship he somehow always pictured he would have with both of his sons.

Chris sighed, his conscience niggling at him. He knew Leo was trying and that it wasn't his fault. After all, _this_ Leo could hardly be held responsible for all the pent up anger Chris had against his father. As far as this Leo was concerned, he was still a month old baby. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to share _something_ of himself. He had been alone for so long, without Bianca, without his grandfather…He was so use to keeping everything bottled up inside, he'd forgotten how it helped sometimes just to…voice…things. Maybe it was time to remember.

Feeling his resolve weakening, Chris closed his eyes. He said quietly, "I miss the Manor…and I miss…I miss my family…"

"Chris…" Leo floundered at the unexpected revelation into his son's thoughts and feelings. Though short, there was no mistaking the longing in Chris' voice, and that tidbit spoke volumes to Leo as his heart ached to comfort him.

His eyes opening reluctantly, Chris shook his head, clearing it of the foggy memory his words invoked, "No. Forget it. Let's just concentrate on finding what happened to Kate, okay?"

Seeing Chris' emotionless mask drop back into place effectively shutting Leo off from Chris' thoughts, Leo knew the moment was gone and nodded reluctantly, "All right. But I want you to know…you have a family, right here, right now. And we love you very much."

Chris' green eyes met Leo's, and though his face remained stoic, his eyes were full of sorrow, "It's not the same."

Leo clapped his hand on Chris' shoulder in support, hurting because his son was hurting, "I know."

Chris nodded, hearing the truth in Leo's voice, his own response slightly hoarse, "But it helps. Thanks."

Leo nodded. Opening his mouth, he snapped it shut as the sound of orbs interrupted. "Piper?"

* * *

He had been careless.

Confident that no one suspected him. Confident that no one saw him.

As he trailed the Resistance fighter from behind, he cursed. Obviously, he wasn't as good as he thought he was.

He had been coming back from his meeting with his master, emerging from the sewers when he had noticed the three Resistance fighters. At first, he had thought they hadn't noticed him. He had managed to hide in the doorway of a nearby structure, thinking they'd be none the wiser. But then one began nosing around.

In his haste, he hadn't been able to cover his tracks properly. He had watched, as he held his breath, as the do-gooder tripped over his exit. He silently cursed as he watched the witch disappear into the tunnels.

He cursed his luck.

Oh well.

It wasn't like he hadn't spilt blood before.

* * *

Finally rounding the corner, something up ahead made his breath catch in his throat. _Jesus…is that what I think it is…?_ Running as fast as he could, the water splashing against the tunnel walls rather noisily, he reached the object._Oh fuck…_

Even from behind, Les could tell it was the body of a woman. Reaching out reluctantly, he grasped the hair of the unfortunate soul, lifting her head out of the water slightly and turned the bloated face towards him.

_Elise…_

Stumbling back in shock, Les reached out blindly for support. Feeling the cold concrete against his hand, he continued to stumble back until his back hit the wall. Feeling his stomach contents rise up, he bent over abruptly, retching and spewing what was left of his lunch.

_Oh God…oh fuck…Jesus…Elise…_

Les shook his head. He couldn't stay here. It was clear someone had murdered his friend. Her expression had been frozen in terror – her throat cleanly sliced. He felt his bile rise up to threaten him again before he forced it back down. Turning away from the ghastly sight of his friend, Les began to run back towards the direction he came. He had to get back. Get back and tell someone.

And find out just what the fuck was going on.

* * *

The three sisters materialized in front of the male members of their family. Looking slightly sheepish, Paige offered an apologetic smile, "Hi. Need some help?"

Chris glared at the sisters, "I thought I told you to canvass the fairy population."

"And we did!" Phoebe hurried to reassure her sour looking nephew. "They didn't know anything. So instead of twiddling our thumbs, we decided…" Phoebe's voice trailed off as Chris' eyebrow rose sardonically.

"That we would come to help you and Leo," Piper finished firmly, choosing to ignore her son's irritancy with them.

About to retort, all that emerged was a loud cough. As Piper's face became alarmed, Chris stumbled away from his family, waving off their efforts to assist him. Doubled over, he heaved and coughed, weezing as the pain in his chest threatened to suffocate him. A strong arm grasped his upper arm, and once again, Chris could hear the gentle healing of his father's hands.

"It's okay, son. Just breathe slowly, that's it…" Leo murmured, as he tried to heal his son the best he could. He could feel the illness rejecting his efforts – allowing him to only alleviate the pressure in Chris' lungs so that the young man could breathe a touch easier. He murmured comfortingly, "You're okay, buddy. You're okay."

As the pressure in his chest began to lift, Chris straightened, waving off Piper's efforts to help. "It's okay. I'm okay, Mom. Just a momentary lapse…"

"We need to get you back to Lilah," Piper voiced worriedly. "Chris – you need to take it easy."

He shook his head, his brown hair falling forward and easily obscuring his eyes from his mother's. "No. Not yet. I think I'm onto something."

Paige traded glances with Phoebe before saying, "On to what?"

As Leo stepped back, done with healing Chris as much as he possibly could, Chris pointed with his finger, "There. The tracks lead there…"

"Tracks?" Phoebe said doubtfully, eyeing the lake Chris was pointing towards. "What tracks?"

Ignoring his aunts, Chris strode towards the embankment, and began to wade into the lake's edge.

"What are you doing?" Piper ran to the edge of the lake, flabbergasted. "Where are you going? Come back here!"

Leo joined his wife, asking his son, "Chris? What is it?"

Chris ignored his parents, wading deeper into the water. When he was about waist deep, he took a deep breath and plunged into its watery depths.

"Chris!" Piper shouted, suddenly terrified now that Chris was no longer in her sight. Grabbing onto her husband's arm, she pointed with her other hand in the direction where Chris had disappeared, "Don't just stand there, go after him!"

As Leo prepared to dive in after his wayward son, Chris' head popped above the water line. Catching sight of him, Piper cupped her hands around her mouth to shout, "You get your ass back here right now, young man! Before you catch a cold!"

As her sisters looked at her in varying shades of disbelief, Piper blushed, realizing how inane she sounded. Giving them an evil glare, she sniffed defensively, "When you have children, you'll understand."

Leo cracked a small grin, "I have children, and _I _don't understand."

Piper huffed as she turned her attention back to her son, who was slowly wading back towards the shore. Opening her mouth to scold him, she snapped it shut abruptly as she realized he was dragging something behind him. Feeling her stomach lurch, Piper turned away, unable to help herself.

Leo maintained his gaze on his son, hearing the sisters in the background murmur in shock and turn away from the sight of his son emerging from the water. Because it was clear from the shape of the object Chris was dragging behind him with his telekinesis was once human.

Dripping wet, Chris sludged his way up the bank, his breathing hard. Lurching unsteadily, he shot Leo a grateful glance as his father stepped forward to support him. Using his powers once again had taken its toll, exhaustion quickly settling in. He glanced behind him, his gaze sad as he stared at the body of his good friend.

"I'm sorry, Chris," Leo consoled his son. "I know she was your friend."

Chris nodded silently, his eyes carefully averted from Kate's face. "At least we found her." He looked over at the sisters, who were huddled together, clearly unused to seeing a dead body. Though he grieved for his friend, Chris felt a certain detachment born from the countless deaths he had witnessed during the war.

"What do you think killed her?" Piper cleared her throat, still careful to keep her distance. She really didn't need to get a good look.

Chris shrugged, "No idea. Maybe someone back at base can tell us."

Leaving his son's side, Leo closed the few feet between himself and Kate's body. Her skin was grey and her eyes were wide open, making him feel slightly uneasy. Kneeling down, he looked for obvious signs of trauma, and finding none, looked over at Chris who was still standing a few feet away, "Nothing that I can see. Do you mind?", indicating he wanted to turn the valkyrie onto her front.

"Knock yourself out," Chris replied dryly. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

"Well, I was a doctor before I became a whitelighter," Leo murmured mildly, not taking offence. Turning the body onto its front, he noted the large wound in her back. "But I don't need a medical degree to tell you what killed her."

Frowning, Chris approached his father, kneeling in the mud bank next to Leo. "What kind of wound is that?"

"My best guess?" Leo shrugged. "It's too large to be a bullet hole. I'd go with some sort of sharp object. Like a knife…"

"Or an arrow?" Chris surmised, his right eyebrow shooting up. "If we can prove Kate was killed by a darklighter…"

"Then the valkyries will have their proof!" Paige finished triumphantly.

Straightening, Chris looked over at the sisters, "We need to get…the body…back to base and find out if our suspicions are on the money."

"We –,"

_Chris!_

Clutching his head, Chris stumbled backwards, nearly falling into the lake. Catching his son, Leo looked at him worriedly, "Son, what is it?"

Alarmed at her son's sudden pallor, Piper carefully skirted the valkyrie's body to come to Chris' side. "Chris? Chris, what is it?"

Chris shook his head. The telepathic call had sounded…"I don't…I think…"

_Chris!_

Paige and Phoebe looked at each other anxiously, as Piper demanded, "Chris! Talk to us! Talk to me!"

Dropping his hands to his side, his startled eyes met his mother's. "Oh God." And without another word, he orbed out.

_Chris!_

* * *

Emerging from the tunnels, his head still reeling from the shock of his discovery, Les stumbled into the open. Whatever dryness he had momentarily achieved in the tunnels was instantly lost as the torrent of rain drenched him to the bone within seconds.

_Oh God…poor, poor Elise._

As Les tried to marshal his thoughts into some semblance of purpose, the sound of a loud _click!_ disturbed his thoughts. He turned around slowly, his eyes widening at the sight that greeted his eyes.

He opened his mouth; to say what, he wasn't sure.

Because before any sound could emerge, his eyes registered the small flare…his ears the loud bang.

Pain exploded in his chest.

_Shit!_

He fell to his knees.

Summoning his rapidly depleting strength, he threw his thoughts out, knowing he had to tell someone…anyone…

_Chris!_

He collapsed completely against the cold, hard, wet ground.

As his laboured breathing slowed, he blinked stupidly. In his mind, he could picture her; soft and sweet, her voice demanding that he hang on.

_Phoebe…_

And the world went black.

To be continued…


	10. Chapter 9

Author's notes: I remind you STRONGLY of the rating for this fic. It's also shorter than usual – sorry but I thought it ended best here. 

Thanks go to: Sparkling Cherries, girl-with-the-green-eyes, charmedtomeetyou, Charmed Ravenclaw, mjp3.

**

* * *

The End of All Things**

Chapter 9

* * *

Piper gaped at the empty spot where her son had just stood. "Where'd he go?" Piper began to panic, her motherly instincts kicking into high gear. "Leo! He's not supposed to use his powers!"

Seeing Piper was about to lose control, Leo rested a calming hand on his wife's shoulder. Closing his eyes, "I don't know, Piper. But let me see if I can sense him." Leo's eyes popped open, "I've got him. He's in San Francisco."

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Piper demanded, her hands on her hips as she looked at Leo anxiously. "Follow him!"

Seeing Leo glance at Kate's recently recovered body, Paige quickly interpreted Leo's hesitation, and cutting off Piper before she could repeat her demand, "I'll take care of it. Go. Help Chris."

Throwing his sister-in-law a grateful glance he grabbed at Piper's hand and looked questioningly at Phoebe who had stepped forward.

"I'm going with you," Phoebe explained unnecessarily. At Piper's raised eyebrow, "Paige can take Kate's body back to the base herself. Something in my gut tells me Chris needs us more."

Nodding, Piper looked over at Paige who agreed, "Phoebe's right. It shouldn't take me more than a second to drop…this…off. Go. I'll be right behind you."

And without another word, the trio disappeared, leaving Paige to stare at Kate regretfully. Sighing, she made her way slowly over, careful to avoid looking in the direction of the valkyrie's face. Kneeling down in the grass, she gently placed a hand on Kate's leg and took a deep breath before orbing out.

* * *

Chris orbed as close as the damn no-orbing spell would allow him. Overhead, the thunderclouds had opened with a vengeance, soaking Chris to the skin within seconds, though he barely registered it. Yelling at the guards to let him in, he ignored their requests for patience, and using his telekinesis, he _threw_ the gates wide open. 

Running in, irate men immediately surrounded him, their crossbows trained on him menacingly. His thoughts and focus were only on his friend, and with an impatient wave, he yanked their crossbows out of their hands to fly through the air, landing several feet away. Following his gut, he pushed his way past the astonished group, running full tilt into the city.

In the back of his mind, he acknowledged the commotion he had left behind – Sheridan was going to have his hide for this. Already, he could hear the shouts and calls from behind, as the guards gathered their wits and chased after him down the winding alleyway.

He paused, clearing his mind of all temporary distractions, and _listened_. He took off to his left, the adrenaline pounding through his blood stream giving him the energy to ignore the pain and exhaustion his illness was causing him. Cutting left and then right, and then right again, Chris continued to run, refusing to listen to his screaming muscles or give in to his shortness of breath. The border guards who'd been chasing him were long gone, likely lost in the maze of twisting paths and dead end roads of the war ravaged city.

He abruptly came to a stop, skidding as his feet slipped across the cobblestones. The street, deserted, was lined with houses obviously damaged during the war with Wyatt. It appeared this neighbourhood had been lucky; most of the houses were still standing, with only a couple on his right that were completely destroyed. Abandoned cars, blackened and rusted, lined both sides of the road.

_Shit!_

Les was lying on the ground, less than a hundred feet away. Running towards his friend, Chris felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. Listening to his gut, he suddenly veered to his left as bullets sprayed the pavement in front of him.

He made a running leap for the closest car, sliding over the hood and tumbling onto the ground as the bullets chased him. Breathing heavily, he winced as multiple shots were unloaded into the metal frame.

Crouched behind the car, he couldn't see Les anymore. Neither could Chris see the shooter. _What the fuck was going on? Guns? What the hell? I thought those were lost during the war, when humans realized bullets don't stop demons…_

He cursed, ducking down swiftly as another couple of shots rang out and interrupted his thoughts. Throwing his arms over his head, he sheltered his face from the broken glass as the next shot shattered the car window above him.

"Les!" Chris, pinned down behind the car he was hiding behind, shouted. "Les!"

The sound of the rain pounding down on the pavement was his only response.

Shots continued to wizz over his head. Letting loose a steady stream of swearing, he ducked, crouching low and huddling against the car. Unable to see exactly where the shots were coming from, he cursed again as this time, bullets riddled the car he was hiding behind. Shouting over the car hood, Chris hoped the shooter could hear him, "I don't want to hurt you!"

"Piss off and die, mother fucker!" The heated reply was quickly followed by a succession of shots.

_So much for being reasonable_…Chris rolled his eyes. Crawling on his hands and knees, he manoeuvred towards the end of the car, peeking over the trunk. A flash caught his eye. Narrowing his eyes, he squinted as he looked for the flash to reveal the shooter's position to him again.

_Fuck_, Chris thought. "Les! I'm coming. Just don't move. _Don't move!_"

In his peripheral vision, he could see three people running towards him, their shapes indicating that his family had decided to follow him and unknowingly plant themselves right in the middle of the situation. Cursing his family's timing, he held his breath, muttering a small prayer under his breath.

_Come on, come on…_

The flash.

"Chris!" his mother's voice called.

His entire being focused on the area where the light had reflected, Chris stretched out his hand and _yanked!_

The roof of the house a couple doors down collapsed.

A scream.

And then…

Silence.

"Chris, what's going on?"

* * *

As soon as she reformed, Paige quickly stepped away from the valkyrie's body. She had chosen Chris' room back at the Resistance's base as it was the only one she was familiar with. Not knowing what else to do, she called out, "Hello? Lilah? Darryl? Anyone?" 

In response to her question, blue orbs began to materialize and Lilah turned to face Paige. "Paige? What's going on? I thought you were with Chris? I – oh my God, is that – ?" Lilah broke off, her face paling at the sight of the dead valkyrie on the floor.

Paige stepped in front of Lilah to force the whitelighter to focus on her. "Lilah. I need to get back to Chris. He needs my help. But he wanted me to bring Kate here so we could find out what or who killed her. We think it was a darklighter arrow, but it's just a guess. Can you help us?"

Swinging her gaze back to Paige, Lilah nodded dazedly, "Yes. Yes, I think so. I'll orb the body to the infirmary and inform Darryl. I'm sure Darryl will know someone who can help us with…this sort of thing."

Paige nodded, "Thanks. I really need to get back to Chris and the others." Reaching out, she squeezed Lilah's arm as the whitelighter continued to still appear to be out of sorts. "Lilah. This is really important."

Shaking herself out of her stupor, the whitelighter nodded grimly. "Of course. You're right. I'll take care of it. Don't you worry. Go. Help Chris. I've got things handled on this end."

Excusing herself one last time, Paige stepped back and taking a deep breath, orbed out.

Looking sadly at her friend, Lilah sighed. Waving her hand, Kate's body disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs. Shaking her head slowly, Lilah sighed again before orbing out as well.

_How did it come to this?_

* * *

As they materialized outside the city gates, the rain hit them ferociously, flattening their clothes and chilling them to the bone within seconds. Desperately trying to shield her face from the torrential downpour, Piper brought her arms up and folded them across her forehead. 

The rain was coming down hard, hammering down upon her in icy pellets, stinging her exposed skin. Wiping at her nose, Piper could feel her hair stick to her scalp, her clothes quickly turning into ten pound weights as they absorbed the moisture.

She looked over at Phoebe and Leo, who were both equally soaked. Phoebe's hair was completely matted against her skull, and she was shading her eyes, trying to keep the rain out so she could see. On Piper's other side, Leo was shouting something as he pointed to something in the distance. Piper shook her head, unable to hear her husband over the noise of the heavy rain.

"…are open!" Leo yelled again, this time directly in Piper's ear.

The gates to the city were open.

The trio jogged forward, unable to see more than a few feet in front, the rain almost creating a grey physical barrier. Cautiously, they approached the city gates. As they ducked into the shelter of the guard post they were confronted by the sight of Chris running off, a quick glimpse of his back as he turned the corner and five guards chasing after him.

Assessing the situation with a quick glance, Piper threw up her hands, effectively freezing her son's pursuers. Already, Phoebe and Leo were in hot pursuit of Chris, leaving Piper to chase after them. Cursing her son's long legs, Piper also cursed the rain for making the cobblestone street beneath her feet slick and making it difficult for her to run.

As she turned the corner, she slammed into a wall that appeared out of nowhere in front of her. It took Piper several seconds to register that the 'wall' was actually Leo. They were standing at fork in the road, and he was obviously unsure of which way to turn. Thunder sounded and lightening struck, briefly illuminating the area. In that moment, Piper caught sight of her son, crouched down behind _something_…just ahead. Pointing with her finger, she began to run towards him, shouting to the others, "There!"

Almost tripping over herself, a strong arm caught her from behind, yanking her upright. Throwing her husband a grateful glance, the two traded an intimate glance before lacing their fingers together to continue to slip and slide their way through the rain slick streets. Phoebe brought up the rear, saying nothing as the three made their way eagerly towards their target.

Cupping her hands around her mouth, Piper yelled at her son as soon as they were in hearing distance, thoroughly irritated with his erratic behaviour, "Chris!"

A gun went off.

The building less than twenty feet away collapsed.

A scream.

The rain kept pouring down.

* * *

Piper approached her son, who was slowly rising from his position from behind an abandoned car. Even in the rain, Piper could tell he was breathing heavily. Still alarmed and confused, Piper's voice was almost harsh as she demanded, "Chris, what's going on?"

She bit back a cry as Chris raised his head briefly to meet her gaze. His green eyes were ablaze, almost glowing as he shook his head, saying only hoarsely, "Les."

From behind, Piper watched as Phoebe rushed by, letting out a cry. Phoebe rushed towards Les, spotting him lying on the ground less than a couple of metres away. Sinking to her knees, she placed her hand on his shoulder gently rolling him over onto his back to assess the damage.

"Oh my God…" Phoebe gasped.

Following her sister, Piper, unable to bear the sight, turned her head into Leo's shoulder. The bullet had entered his upper chest, leaving a large blood stain to soak on the front of his jacket. His eyes were open and unblinking…his mouth still open. Blood, still fresh, welled in his mouth, leaking and escaping from the corner of his mouth to be washed away by the rain before it even hit the ground.

Phoebe's eyes swelled with tears, as she shook her head in disbelief, covering her mouth in horror, "Oh God…oh God…"

"Dad…you've got to heal him…" Chris approached from behind, crouching down next to his aunt and fallen friend. Looking up at Leo, his eyes pleading, "Dad…"

"Chris…," Leo hesitated, not wanting to say the words. Chris' green eyes burned with an intensity that made Leo flinch. He tried to cushion the impact of his statement in a soft tone, "Son. I can't heal the dead."

Chris shook his head in denial. He placed his hands on either side of Les' head, giving it a little shake. "Breathe, man. Come on…_breathe goddamnit!_"

"Chris…" Piper choked out. "Chris, he's gone."

"No…," Chris shook his head, angrily now. "No! He called for me. He said my name!"

Piper shook her head again, her face full of sympathy as she tried to place a comforting hand on her son's shoulder. Phoebe just moaned, continuing to rock back and forth, tears running down her face.

"Piper? Phoebe?" Paige's voice rang out from a few feet away. Judging from her horrified expression, she had noticed Les' prone figure. "Oh my God. Is that – ?"

Leo nodded swiftly. As regret flashed across Paige's face, she quickly made her way over to Phoebe's side to sink to her knees next to her grieving sister, "Phoebe. Honey. I'm so sorry." Paige wrapped her arms around Phoebe, offering her what little comfort she could.

Meanwhile, Chris was shaking Piper's hand off, "No. No, goddamnit. I can't be too late. _I can't be._"

Trading a concerned look with his wife, Leo kneeled down next to Chris, "Son. It wasn't your fault."

Any tears he shed were impossible to separate from the river of rain streaming down his face. Chris stared down into his friend's face, unable to believe Les' expression was frozen in a contortion of pain. Chris whispered hoarsely, "No…don't do this, Les. It's not your time. It's not supposed to be this way."

"Chris…" Piper tried to comfort her son, alarmed by the devastation and self-recrimination in his expression. "Honey. Your father's right. This isn't your fault."

As if her words triggered something inside him, Chris' eyes suddenly blazed, hot with anger as he raised his eyes to meet his mother's, "You're goddamned right it's not my fault."

Piper stumbled back as Chris rose abruptly, stalking towards the recently collapsed house. "Chris? Where are you going? Chris?"

Chasing after her son, Piper quickly got to her feet, concern evident in her every step. Leo cast a look at Paige, who shook his head, "Go. I'll stay with Phoebe."

Running after his son and wife, he flinched as Chris stood before the pile of drywall that had once been a standing house, flinging the materials this way and that with his telekinesis. Skidding to a halt next to Piper who was standing a couple metres back from Chris, Leo whispered, "What's he looking for?"

Piper shook her head silently, her entire focus on her son as concern for both Chris' mental and physical state threatened to overwhelm her. He was breathing heavily and the exaggerated hand movements as he used his telekinesis clearly indicated to her that he was on the brink of exhaustion.

Finally, Chris found whatever he had been searching for because he stopped, stepping back to gaze at the object he'd uncover from the wreckage of the house.

As Chris stepped back, Piper gasped, catching sight of the injured man, who was bleeding heavily. His eyes met hers with a hatred that made her stumble back, as he looked up at Chris, "Fucking fairy."

"Hello, Jeremiah."

* * *

The fire from the torches gave the cavern an angry orange glow to the surroundings. The flickering shadows and the dead silence except for the two beings in conversation only added to the threatening atmosphere deep beneath the earth. 

As far as the two inhabitants were concerned, it was exactly they way they wanted it.

Zankou regarded his snivelling minion. "Really, Phinks. Please stop that incessant whining. It is starting to seriously annoy me."

Phinks wiped at his nose, his tone meek. "I'm sorry, my lord. It's just…the witch-whitelighter has found the valkyrie's body. It's only a matter of time before he links it to us."

Zankou rolled his eyes, "Even if the boy can trace it back to us, do you really think the humans will believe him? No. No…everything is going according to plan. The humans are resentful and distrustful of the witches and all magical beings."

"But what about Sheridan? There are still those who trust the Resistance and its leader," Phinks pointed out, bewildered.

"They are in the minority," Zankou replied confidently. "Our mole is slowly but surely turning the tide. It won't be long before the distrust between the humans and witches is so great that all semblance of friendship will be lost."

Phinks bobbed his head in agreement, even though he didn't really understand what he was agreeing to. "But I don't understand. How does this help us?"

"Any friction between the humans and the witches we can use to our advantage," Zankou looked at Phinks thoughtfully. "We can and will exploit this to our benefit."

Still not understanding, Phinks declined to further voice his questions, afraid that Zankou would lose all patience with him. "What should I do now?"

Zankou smiled, flashing his teeth. "Go. Watch the humans. Find out what they think of the witches. And when the timing is right to strike, I will let you and the others know."

Bobbing one last time, Phinks shimmered out, "Yes, my lord."

Gazing thoughtfully at the shadows dancing across the cavern wall, Zankou stroked his chin, picturing the young leader of the Resistance in his mind. _Soon. Soon, my young friend. Soon you and I will meet. And only one shall survive!_

* * *

Chris looked down at the man coldly, "You bastard…you killed my friend," 

"I'm only sorry I didn't pop your sorry ass too, fucking fairy," Jeremiah coughed, sputtering up blood. His leg, broken, was bent in an awkward position, the white of his bone jutting slightly out and breaking the skin.

Piper paled, turning away from the disturbing sight. "Leo, maybe you should heal him…"

"No," Chris ordered, his voice low. "This mother fucker is going to tell me who he works for first."

"Fuck you," Jeremiah spat weakly. "I don't work for no one but myself!"

"Chris," Leo shook his head at Chris' tone. "He's in pain. I have to heal him."

Ignoring Leo's reply, Chris looked around. His gaze alighted upon the rifle the man had used to hunt Chris and kill Les. Opening his hand, Chris used his telekinesis so that the gun flew the air to land neatly in his palm. Cocking the piece, he pointed it directly at the Jeremiah's head, looking down the barrel. "You really think I'm that stupid? You don't know shit. There's no way you could have gotten this gun on your own. I won't ask you again, who are you working with?"

"Chris!" Piper exclaimed in alarm. "What are you doing?"

Taking the safety off slowly and deliberately, Chris' cold eyes stared into Jeremiah's frightened ones. Beads of sweat formed on the man's forehead, as he looked down the barrel to meet Chris' unfeeling gaze. Jeremiah licked his dry lips, "You…you wouldn't…"

A shot rang out, nipping the ground next to Jeremiah's head, sending a spray of gravel into the air, pelting the man's face. Chris' eyes formed slits, "You shot my friend, you fucking bastard. Now the next one is going in your brain if I don't hear a name."

Leo stepped forward, attempting to put a restraining hand on Chris' arm. Before he could reach his son, Chris threw his left hand up, effectively throwing Leo back with his telekinesis.

"Leo!" Piper gasped, as her husband flew backwards, landing in a heap a couple metres away. She ran towards him, sliding to her knees next to him, making sure he was okay. "Chris, what are you doing?"

"Last chance," Chris said coldly, his eyes never leaving the man's.

"Okay! Okay!" Jeremiah gasped. "I don't know what his name was. He found me!"

"You expect me to believe that?" Chris yelled, his temper flaring. "You expect me to believe you don't know who the fuck you're working with?"

"I never asked! I swear!" The man was sobbing in fear now, alarmed at the look in Chris' eyes. "He paid me, he did. He said if I did this, he'd make sure I was taken care of."

"Leo, you okay?" Piper asked distractedly, as she threw a concerned look over her shoulder at the confrontation her son was having with Les' murderer.

Leo shook his head, his face contorted with pain. "I think I twisted my ankle…"

"Here, lean on me," Helping Leo up, Piper tried to bear his weight as much as possible as they hobbled back together towards their son. Piper, alarmed at the direction of Chris' questioning, tried to intercede, "Chris. You have to calm down, honey."

Incensed at the senselessness of Les' death, and furious at his own failure to rescue his friend, Chris felt rage encompass him. Grabbing the barrel of the rifle, he flipped it around, holding it like a bat and brought it down _hard_ several times on the injured man.

Horrified, but unable to abandon Leo, Piper called out for her son to stop, "Chris! Stop it! You won't bring Les back! Just stop it!"

Les' murderer screamed in pain, "You fucker! Fuck you!"

Chris paused in his beating, "I want a fucking name!"

Sobbing furiously, the man had his arms up around his head in an attempt to shield his head from Chris' malicious blows, "Zankou. He said his name was Zankou, okay!"

Feeling the energy drained out of him, Chris stumbled a couple steps back, "Fuck."

Reaching Chris' side now, Leo, his face drawn in pain, said, "Chris – Chris, I'm so sorry about Les. But you have to let me help him. You have to let me heal this man."

Jeremiah spat, even as tears of pain continued to stream down his face, "I don't need your magic, you pissant. My own kind will take care of me."

Leo blinked in surprise, hearing the hate clearly ringing in the man's passionate tone. "Are you kidding me?"

The man glared at the three in disgust, "You bastards were the ones who started this whole war. You were the ones who took away our lives."

Piper, who had, up until this point, been sympathetic somewhat to the injured man, replied indignantly, "What are you talking about? The Resistance saved you! They saved all of you! It was the demons that were evil!"

Jeremiah laughed harshly, "And the demons were lead by one of _your_ kind. Who's to say it won't happen again? Blood always tells, doesn't it?"

"And Les? That man you shot to death? You think it was his fault for the war too?" Piper snorted in disbelief. "He was human. One of 'your kind', as you so put it!"

"He was a fucking freak," the man retorted, "he deserved what he got. Freaks like him, they should all be shot on sight."

As Piper opened her mouth to argue with the man again, Chris cut her off, "Leave it. You can't argue with people like him."

Snapping her mouth shut, Piper nodded tightly, "Fine. Then Leo doesn't heal him. He can wait for his 'own kind' to get him then." She turned abruptly on her heel, dragging Leo with her. "Let's go see how Phoebe's doing."

As his parents began to walk back towards Phoebe, Chris continued to stare down at the man who had killed his friend. "You don't feel guilty at all, do you?" he asked, tonelessly.

"For killing that freak?" Jeremiah spat. "I'm just sorry I don't have my gun anymore. I'd kill the whole freaking lot of you. That what you want to hear? _Is it?_" The man glared up angrily at Chris from his defenceless sprawl on the ground. "Your friend was a fucking coward. Pleading with me not to shoot. Freak couldn't take it like a man."

Hearing the fanatical rhetoric, Piper looked back over her shoulder, "Chris. Come on. You were right. You can't argue with people like him."

Chris didn't move.

Pausing in their slow progress towards the other two sisters, both parents turned back now. Piper called to her son again, "Chris…"

The gun cocked.

Leo gasped, "Chris – _wait_ –,"

_"So you going to take it like a man?"_

A shot rang out.

Piper's eyes widened. "No…"

* * *

To be continued… 


	11. Chapter 10

A/N: This was actually ready to post a few days ago, but unfortunately ffn was acting up on me. It's still not fixed, so forgive the formatting errors. The next chapter won't be as quick though, since the holidays (and my free time) are over.

Thanks go to chattypandagurl, Sparkling Cherries, Zeria, Kayla, Charmed Ravenclaw. Good to know that people are still reading this fic!

**

* * *

The End of All Things **

**Chapter 10**

_"Your friend was a fucking coward. Pleading with me not to shoot. Freak couldn't take it like a man."_

Chris' blood boiled.

Everything that he had worked for…everything that he had fought tooth and nail for…all the sacrifices he'd made…friends and family he'd lost…

None of it mattered a damn.

The world was still full of conflict, still locked in its never ending struggle between good and evil.

People still died – good, decent people. People who were his friends. People like Les. Killed by idiots and fanatics who didn't give a rat's ass that they were harming the very people trying to help them.

The only other time he had felt this _angry_ had been when Bianca…

Les was gone. He'd failed him. He'd been too slow.

_Too late._

Chris stared into the killer's eyes, feeling a hatred he'd rarely, if ever, had felt this strongly.

It sickened Chris to his stomach.

This man would never fully understand the ramifications of what he'd done. People like him never did. He would continue forward in life, experiencing all the wonderful things life had to offer without an appreciation. All the things his victim should have experienced, and _would_ have appreciated.

He cocked the gun.

_Too late!_

He had never felt so damn useless in all his life.

His teeth clenched.

He could feel his finger trembling on the trigger.

There was no remorse in the other man's eyes. No acknowledgement of the heinous act committed. Only a righteous fury.

He felt his own anger rise, choking his throat in a stranglehold.

"So you going to take it like a man?" 

He squeezed the trigger.

* * *

Sheridan got out from behind her desk, striding forward to greet her two guests, "D.J., Kyle." She held out her hand, indicating for them to take a seat, "How are you two? I thought Les was coming as well?" 

Nodding his head at the woman, D.J. choose the chair to the right of the desk, and sitting down, "Les is right behind us. He's just following up on something and he'll join us afterwards."

Taking her seat once again behind the giant, dark wood desk, Sheridan sighed, "So what can I help you boys with today?"

Kyle looked at D.J. for confirmation before saying, "Chris asked us to question the man who discovered the valkyrie's pendant."

Running a hand through her hair, Sheridan looked slightly harassed, "I don't know what to tell you two. I've questioned him myself. He honestly doesn't know anything. I think he's the innocent party in all of this."

"We know, but I still think we need to question him. It would help us get to the bottom of this faster," Kyle coaxed.

Sheridan's eyes narrowed, reading between the lines, "You mean, you want Les to read his mind."

Kyle shot a glance at D.J., who shrugged. "Perhaps," Kyle broached carefully.

Getting to her feet crossly, Sheridan shot an angry look at the two Resistance fighters, "Are you kidding me? Doesn't that violate some sort of code you people have?"

D.J. crossed his arms defensively, "You know our telepaths have sworn to never read someone's mind without permission."

"So why come to me?" Sheridan's gaze narrowed as comprehension dawned on her. "I see now. You want me to do your dirty work. To give you permission to read that poor man's mind."

"He obviously can't make the decision himself," D.J. pointed out calmly. "We need to be able to say we obtained permission from…someone who can claim responsibility for him."

Sheridan laughed humourlessly, "You mean, you need a scapegoat in case someone questions your actions."

"That's not what we're saying at all," Kyle said, rather uncomfortably, shifting in his seat as he traded another glance with D.J.

"Oh really?" Sheridan's right eyebrow shot upwards sardonically. "Because it sure as hell sounds like it from here." Sitting back down in her chair, she folded her arms across her chest, "I can't believe Chris would ever condone such a thing."

"Well, actually…" D.J. started. About to continue, he snapped it shut as the door behind him suddenly burst open. Swivelling around in his seat, he blinked in surprise as a fresh faced young man barged in, his eyes were wild as he searched for Sheridan.

"What is it?" Sheridan barked, annoyed by the interruption.

The young man, a boy really, his youthful face tight with concern as he gasped out, "Gun shots! In the courtyard in section 9."

The other three occupants in the room stared at each other in astonishment, clearly stunned. Not knowing what to do, the messenger's eyes ping ponged wildly from person to person, his voice desperate, "What should I do?"

As if emerging from a dream state, without a word Sheridan leaped to her feet, shoving past the confused young man, with D.J. and Kyle hot on her heels.

_

* * *

__The gun cocked._

_Leo gasped, "Chris – wait –,"_

"So you going to take it like a man?" 

_A shot rang out._

_Piper's eyes widened. "No…" _

Unable to stop her son, Piper did the next best thing. Reacting on instinct, she threw up her hands and _froze_ the scene. Her mouth dry, she watched as the bullet, Jeremiah…everything…came to a standstill.

_That was too close_, Piper thought, feeling her brow break out in sweat.

Her son glanced over, the look on his face making her cringe, "Unfreeze it. Now."

Piper looked into the young man's eyes, his eyes still burning with rage, his voice flat and completely emotionless. Feeling her heart contract, Piper swallowed convulsively, before saying determinedly, "No."

Whirling on his mother, Chris' eyes blazed a brilliant green as he bit out heatedly, "He _killed_ Les! You want me to let him get away with that? He murdered my friend in cold blood! The bastard killed him without a second thought! And for what? _For what?_"

Piper flinched at Chris' tone but she held her ground. She wasn't fighting for Jeremiah. She was fighting for Chris. Knowing he would dismiss any emotional outburst from her, Piper tried to get through to him, her voice calm yet firm, "Chris. If you do this…there's no going back."

Chris stared at his mother as the seconds ticked by, as if weighing in his mind the words she had just spoken and his own desires. Piper refused to back down, watching him steadily as he struggled with his emotions, praying she would reach him.

Abruptly, he threw the rifle to the ground in frustration, cursing, "Fuck! _Fuck_!"

She watched helplessly as her son cursed and swore, his anger over the death of his friend completely and utterly raw. She stood there, shivering in the cold rain, unable to provide him the comfort he so desperately needed.

Finally coming to a standstill, Chris' shoulders slumped forward as if in defeat. He looked up at the sky, letting the rain pour down over his face before finally turning to face his mother. Piper could see his anger was now under control, the fire in his eyes banked but still flaming, as he told her, hoarsely, "It's not fair."

Her heart broke. Piper could only reply uselessly, "I know."

Meeting his mother's gaze, and his father's stunned one, Chris turned away to shoot a look of disgust at the man sprawled on the earth with his expression frozen in fear. With a wave of his hand, Chris sent the bullet spinning towards the ground, burying it into the pile of rubble that was all that was left of the house he'd brought down earlier.

Sighing with relief, Piper waved her hands, letting the scene unfreeze.

Jeremiah automatically threw his arms up to protect himself, and then lowered them cautiously as he realized nothing happened. He looked up, seeing only Chris' disgusted expression looking down at him before Chris cold-cocked him.

"Chris! What the hell is going on?"

Both Chris and his parents turned in the direction of the voice. Inwardly suppressing a groan, Chris could only say tiredly as he moved back from the now unconscious Jeremiah, "Sheridan."

Trailing behind the former inspector were Kyle and D.J. As the trio skidded to a halt on the wet cobblestones, D.J. let out a string of curses as he caught sight of his friend. Dropping to his knees, D.J. stared down at the face of his good friend, running his hand over his face before briefly closing his eyes in pain, "Ah, Jesus. _No_."

Chris met the shocked gaze of Sheridan, his tone clipped, "Jeremiah happened." As Sheridan visibly flinched, Chris opened his hand and once again using his telekinesis, the rifle jumped into his hand from where it lay on the ground. Deliberately putting the safety back on, he flipped the rifle butt towards Sheridan, indicating for her to take it. "He used this."

Taking the weapon from Chris with unsteady hands, Sheridan raised her eyes to meet Chris', "Chris – I'm sorry…"

Barely acknowledging her statement with a curt nod of his head, his gaze focused on Kyle who was still staring in shock at their fallen friend. "Kyle, take D.J. and…" Chris paused before continuing, his voice faltering slightly, "and…Les' body back to base."

Kyle raised his head to meet Chris' eyes, his head shaking slowly as if confused, "We split up for fifteen minutes. He said he was right behind us." Kyle's voice was almost a plea, "He said he was right behind us…"

Not unsympathetic, Chris kept his emotions tightly under control, merely replying, "Take them back to base, Kyle. Now."

The whitelighter nodded uncertainly and moving forward, grasped D.J.'s shoulder and placed a gentle hand on Les. The three disappeared in a swirl of orbs, leaving behind only the sound of Phoebe's hoarse weeping.

"Where is Jeremiah now?" Sheridan asked, her tone awkward.

Chris' face was expressionless, as indicated with a jerk of his head, "Over there."

Skirting her way around the Charmed Ones and Chris, Sheridan moved in the direction Chris had indicated. As she caught sight of Jeremiah's condition, she recoiled in shock, "Chris! What have you done?"

"I needed to know who he worked for," Chris replied coldly. "I needed a name."

"Well, I hope you got it," Sheridan snapped, a little waspishly. "Did you really have to beat the poor man to pulp to get it?"

"No," Chris agreed quietly. "But I did if you didn't want him dead."

Throwing a glance over her shoulder to see if Chris was joking, Sheridan paled as she realized the young man was deadly serious. Her face was drawn, "I think you had better leave."

Piper sputtered in astonishment, "Are you kidding? That…that _man_ just shot Les. Killed him! Because of _Chris_, we now know Zankou is mixed up in this somehow. And you're throwing _Chris_ out?"

"Les was my friend also, Piper," Sheridan stood up, looking down at the ground at her unconscious companion. She had never really liked Jeremiah, but still… "I have to do what I think is right. The others will be here soon. I think it'd be better if I explained to them what happened. And that none of you are here when I do."

She exchanged a significant glance with Chris, saying only, "You've put me in a really awkward position, Chris."

Chris locked eyes with Sheridan and with a curt nod, he orbed out.

Paige shot a glance at Piper from her kneeling position on the ground next to Phoebe. At her eldest sister's nod, she orbed herself and Phoebe away, Phoebe still weeping in Paige's arms.

Piper looked at Sheridan, indignity clear in her tone as her voice rang out across the courtyard, grabbing Leo's hand, "You don't know what you've done."

And with that, they disappeared in a swirl of orbs.

* * *

Chris didn't want to face the ramifications of Les' death. Making sure the door was shut, he entered his room not bothering to turn on the light. 

He liked the darkness.

Today was Les' memorial. But Chris couldn't bring himself to attend. He knew Darryl, DJ and the others would know he'd want to be alone, if only for a little while.

Since they had first orbed back from New San Francisco, Chris hadn't allowed himself to feel. Too many things to do, too many things to worry about – he had pushed Les' death to the back of his mind. Unable to think about…_it_. Unable to deal with…_it_.

Les had been one of his best friends and confidant; they'd bonded over a common cause and purpose but became fast friends over similar values. He'd been one of few that Chris could be completely himself. Bianca, Darryl and Sheila had been the only others who were afforded that privilege. Reluctantly, he cracked a grin, remembering…

_Les grinned wickedly, "It's nice to know the infallible Chris Halliwell, leader of the Resistance, is just as human as the rest of us."_

He'd never been afraid to call Chris on the carpet when needed. And he'd never failed to watch Chris' back. And now…now he was gone. In one violent and rapid gesture, Les' life had been severed. Extinguished. Terminated.

All because he'd been scant _minutes_ too late.

He'd never felt so angry.

And tired.

Tired of the dying, tired of the fighting, tired of _trying_…just…so…damn…tired.

As if his body couldn't support his weight anymore, Chris stumbled over to the nearest wall and slowly he slid downwards sinking to the floor. Leaning his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes and shook his head mentally. _What the hell?_, he thought a little desperately.

He rubbed his face wearily. Opening his eyes, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

So many people gone.

So many people dead.

_And for what?_, Chris wondered bitterly. He'd tried to save Bianca and she had still died. He had tried to go back to the past to save his brother, and not only had he died too, Chris had ended up killing him. _Sheila. Mom. Dad. And now Les._

He had failed to save them. All of them.

Any of them.

He had failed to save the future.

He had failed…them.

The world was coming apart, unravelling faster than Chris could comprehend. Magic had been exposed, and those who were once friends and allies were now degenerating into enemies. Tensions were high, hostility was rampant and fear was slowly but inevitably sweeping the population.

_Exactly how it was before with Wyatt_, Chris thought in despair.

It seemed nothing had changed.

And that nothing ever would.

So then…

What the hell what he fighting for?

* * *

It had never stopped raining, making Phoebe wonder if even the heavens themselves were in mourning. The wind whipped at her, sending her hair into a frenzy and she tightened her grip on her umbrella, huddling under the clearly inadequate shelter. Already her clothes were soaked, plastered to her body, the soggy material making her shiver so hard her teeth seemed to rattle. 

Phoebe was vaguely aware of her sisters on either side of her, offering her their support through their comforting presence. At the podium, Darryl was reading his prepared eulogy, his words washing over her in a distorted haze. Phoebe stared at the dark wood box where she knew Les' body lay, unable to look away.

Tears pricked her eyes. Swallowing a hiccup, Phoebe tried to focus on Darryl's words. But all she could hear was the sound of her own heart.

_Why? _

She desperately wanted to know the answer to that question. She desperately wanted him back. She desperately wanted…the future that might have been.

Neither Paige nor Piper had questioned her intense grief at Les' death. Phoebe assumed Paige had clued Piper into her feelings for Les. However, neither of them asked, merely imposing their own suppositions on her and Les' relationship. Probably assuming they had confessed their love for each other just before his death.

It couldn't have been further from the truth.

Oh, they had kissed. Acknowledged their burgeoning feelings for each other. But it wasn't like they had confessed their undying love. While she knew she had had feelings for Les, the truth was she hadn't known him long enough to fall in love. At least…not completely.

The truth was, she was being selfish. She was selfish because the tears she shed, the profuse weeping and the hoarse crying weren't for Les. She was mourning for what could have been – for the bright, shining future that had been dangled so temptingly in front of her before being so cruelly snatched away.

Here, her sisters, hell… _everyone_ around them, thought she was grieving over Les' death. And she was. Just not in the way they thought she was.

Just not in the way she should.

The pallbearers came forward, gently picking up the long coffin. They shuffled by her, completely unaware of the icy rain pelting down relentlessly from the sky, their faces sombre and grey. She picked out the faces she recognized, Darryl, then Duncan…Zach…Kyle…D.J. Their sorrow so raw and apparent, it made her want to cry out.

As she exchanged a grief-stricken glance with D.J., Phoebe felt ashamed as she witnessed the deep-rooted heartache displayed by his friends while all she could think about was what could have been.

Les deserved better.

Better than her.

As the last of the processional filed by, Leo and Piper exchanged concerned glances. Bending their heads together under the umbrella they shared, they whispered something, drawing Phoebe's attention. At her questioning look, Piper looked guiltily, "I'm sorry. We're just worried about Chris."

Staring down at her crumpled handkerchief for a moment, Phoebe raised her now dry eyes to meet Piper's. It was time to be the grown up she always claimed she was and set aside her own feelings, "No. You're right. I'm worried, too. Where do you think he is?"

Piper looked up at Leo, her voice tinged with concern. "He should have been here." Looking around helplessly and not spotting her son anywhere, "I think…he should have been here," Piper finished lamely.

Paige was staring off into the distance over Phoebe's shoulder, her gaze focused on the processional. "I think they're going to bury him now." She looked at Phoebe, "We should go."

Phoebe nodded, before turning back to Piper, who was gathering her things, getting ready to leave, "Piper. I think you should go find Chris."

Piper blinked at Phoebe in surprise, "But you need me."

Phoebe shook her head, her voice soft, "Chris needs you more."

About to argue with her sister more, Piper was neatly cut off by Leo's interruption, "I'll go."

"What?" Piper shook her head slightly, not comprehending.

"I'll go and find Chris. You go with Phoebe," Leo replied firmly. Seeing Phoebe about to argue, Leo shook his head. "I think…it would be better if I find him."

Piper stared at Leo for a moment, before nodding reluctantly, "All right. Go. But promise you'll come get me if you need me. If Chris needs me."

Leo nodded, and handing the umbrella to his wife, he raised Piper's hand to press a kiss against her knuckles before orbing out.

"Honestly, Piper. I'm fine. You could have gone with Leo," Phoebe protested, feeling absolutely horrid that Piper felt she needed to stay behind.

Seeing the guilt in Phoebe's eyes, Piper rushed to reassure her, "I know. It's just…I think Leo might be right. He might be the best person for Chris to talk to right now." At Paige's puzzled look, Piper explained, "Leo has experience with…war…and…loss."

The three sisters stared at each other in shared silence. Finally, breaking the moment, Paige looped her arm through Phoebe's, and nodded at Piper, "Shall we go?"

Phoebe smiled sadly, her gaze now focused on the last of the crowd of dark suits leaving. "We shall."

* * *

Leo knocked on Chris' room door. 

"Chris?" Leo called out, entering the darkened room. He was worried about his son; Chris not showing up for Les' memorial was a clear indication that something was wrong.

About to leave and search elsewhere, a flash of white caught his attention. Turning back slowly, he approached the two sneakers, the only part of Chris that Leo could make out from the shadowy corner at the back of the room. "Chris?"

Silence.

"Come on, Chris," Leo said patiently, standing a couple of feet away. "I know it's you. I can hear you breathing."

No response.

"We missed you at the service today," Leo prompted, vaguely unsure how to draw Chris out. "I think everyone really…missed you. Darryl was wondering where you were."

Still nothing.

Taking another couple of steps forward, Leo crouched down. He could barely make out Chris' form from the dim light of the hallway filtering into the room. Chris' knees were drawn up against his chest, his arms lightly resting on top. His head was tilted back, leaning against the wall behind him for support and his eyes were closed. "Chris?"

His voice sounded like gravel, rough and hoarse with disuse, to Leo, "Go away."

Sitting down on the floor next to his son, Leo crossed his legs and regarded his son thoughtfully, "Do you want to talk?"

A pause and then, in a low whisper, "I want you to go away."

Leo tried again, "Chris. Son. I know how much Les meant to you. I can't imagine how you feel –,"

"Then you'll appreciate that I want you to go away," Chris replied, his voice still so low that Leo had to strain his ears to hear Chris.

"But I think it would help if you talked about it with someone," Leo continued, ignoring the interruption.

Chris laughed humourlessly, "Not everything can be fixed with a couple of words of wisdom, _Elder_."

The casually tossed out barb hit its mark, causing Leo to physically wince. "I don't…I never…I know it won't. But it might…ease…your pain…if you shared it with someone."

Again, nothing.

Sighing, Leo knew he couldn't force Chris to trust him, let alone share his feelings with him. Everything was too raw right now – his son was in pain and there was nothing he could do about it. Starting to rise to his feet, Leo patted his son awkwardly on the leg, "If you need to talk to someone, just remember…I'm a good listener."

Straightening, Leo tried to read his son's face in the shadows. Giving up, he turned to leave, not knowing what else to do.

"I…wait…"

Almost to the door, Leo paused at Chris' hoarse plea. Reaching out, he closed the door, and turned back, approaching his son slowly. "Chris? What is it?"

"I didn't…I couldn't…I just…" Chris stuttered.

Leo returned to kneel next to his son, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He prompted, "Yes?"

Chris shook his head. "I didn't go to the service because…I would have been a hypocrite."

Leo shook his head, "I don't understand."

"People go to…services…to remember. To grieve. To find and to provide comfort," Chris whispered. "But I don't feel any of those things."

Leo simply waited.

"I don't want to grieve. I don't want any comfort," Chris' voice began to build in volume. "I want to scream and yell and _punch_ something…anything."

Leo looked confused, "Chris?"

"Don't you get it?" Chris bit out angrily. "I'm fucking mad. I'm fucking mad and angry and…_goddamnit_," Chris swore. "I fucking want to _kill_ someone." He shot his father a look, "And I almost did."

"The important thing is, you didn't," Leo replied firmly. "You came to your senses, and you made the right decision."

Chris snorted. "But I'm still pissed…no, I'm _furious_…with that, that _bastard_. I want to fucking rip his head off. I want him to suffer. I want him to feel pain." A pause. "And I want to be the one to do it."

"It's natural to feel some sort of anger," Leo counselled. "Especially when a death is so senseless…" Leo swallowed, searching for the right words, "I think…I think you're not the only who feels that way." At Chris' look of disbelief, Leo struggled, "Darryl. Lilah. They loved him too. I think if you asked them, they would tell you they feel just as angry."

Pushing himself abruptly off the floor, Chris began to pace, "It's not…it's…I…"

Remaining where he was sitting, Leo looked up at his son, "Chris? What is it?"

Coming to a stop, he turned on his heel to look back at his father, "Mom stopped me, before. And at the time…" Chris' voice trailed off. "But I'm still…it's like…something _inside_ me has switched off." At Leo's puzzled look, Chris tried to explain, "I don't care about this conflict between us and the mortals anymore. I'm starting to think maybe Kate and Riley had the right of it. Hell, maybe even Sheridan is right – there is no place for us to live side by side in peace. Maybe we all need to pick sides. And my side is my own."

Leo gaped at his son in astonishment, unable to believe what he was hearing, "Surely you don't mean that?"

"Don't I? Look at everything we've done. Everything we've sacrificed. And what do we get in return? Fear. Hate. Death. Les shouldn't have died. There was no cause for it. He died because of hate. Because of fear," Chris refused to meet Leo's eyes. "I've lost so many people…family…friends…_Bianca_…" Chris' voice dropped to a whisper, "I don't think I can stand to lose anymore…"

"Chris," Leo placed a gentle hand on Chris' shoulder. "Son. You can't give up now. Listen to me. You'll get through this. Like you did with…everyone else. We're so close – so close to changing the past and fixing your future. You got to stick with me." Leo placed his other hand on Chris' opposite shoulder, trying to instil in his son the faith Chris so clearly needed to feel, "We're going to fix this. You'll see. But until then, I need you to stick with me." He waited for Chris to respond, prompting, "Okay, buddy?"

A pause, and then, almost reluctantly, "Okay."

Leo closed his eyes thankfully before popping open as Chris began to cough uncontrollably. Supporting his son, Leo reached within himself for his healing power. As the gentle golden glow illuminated the room, Leo could only watch helplessly as Chris drew in painful breath after painful breath. When Leo's healing had done all it could, Chris stumbled over to the nearby couch to collapse in exhaustion.

"It's getting worse," Leo croaked, unnecessarily.

Chris nodded tiredly, "I know." He swiped at the corner of his mouth, grimacing at the streak of blood left behind on his sleeve. He looked up to see Leo watching him in concern, saying simply "I know."

* * *

To be continued….

A/N: _Congratulations to Team Canada, World Junior Hockey Champions! You've done us proud._


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N:** A hella lot of 'notes' this time.

As mjp3 accurately pointed out in the last chapter Chris and the Charmed Ones orbed out of San Francisco even though there's a no-orbing spell in place. My apologies – please pretend that they actually walked (or ran, I'll leave it up to you) back to the city gate and _then_ orbed back to base. Many thanks to mjp3 for pointing out that critical error.

Also – in case you haven't noticed, unlike my other stories, I haven't been adding a 'warning' about character deaths at the beginning of the chapters in this story. I decided I wanted to keep them as surprises and will continue to do so.

Lastly: sorry for the lag time between updates. The first ten pages are always pretty quick – it's the last five that seem to drag on and on. However, I did manage to write slightly more than usual this time so hopefully that makes up for a little bit. Sometimes I wish I could just post in point form!

Thanks go to: nicol-leoraine, Charmed Ravenclaw, Zeria, Kayla, IcantthinkofaFnick, mjp3, Sparkling Cherries and Leigh1986. Your comments and good wishes make it all worthwhile.

**

* * *

The End of All Things **

**Chapter 11**

* * *

He was dreaming. 

_The air was crisp, nipping at his nose as he turned the collar of his jacket up in a useless effort to ward off the cold, brisk wind. Rubbing his hands together, his breath emerged in a mist as he tried to warm his frozen fingers. Stamping his feet, he prayed for warmth as he tugged his coat closer around himself. _

_A voice from behind beckoned, "Chris."_

_He turned slowly, his eyes running lightly over the female figure, noting the long chestnut coloured tresses floating in the wind, hands tucked into her slim black jeans. _

_Funny – _she_ didn't look cold. _

"_How could you say it doesn't matter anymore?" Bianca glared at him, her hands on her hips. She tossed her long hair over her shoulder, "How could you even _think_ that?"_

_Chris cringed at her accusatory tone, replying automatically as he crossed his arms defensively, "How could I not? You saw what happened. Les is _gone_, Bianca. Shot by some idiot we're suppose to protect? Screw that."_

_Her eyes chided him as she reproved him lightly, "The world's always been full of stupid people. You know that. It doesn't mean you're excused from doing what's right."_

_He jutted his chin out stubbornly. Oh, he knew it was a dream, but it didn't matter. At least here, here he could still see her – even if it was just to argue. "Yeah? Well maybe it's time we took the Darwin approach to evolution."_

"_You don't mean that."_

"_Don't I? I told Dad I was starting to think Kate and Riley had the right of it. Maybe it's not meant to be. Maybe we're just not meant to coexist peacefully." Chris' eyes slid away from Bianca's and he shivered slightly as the wind began to pick up. "Maybe it's time we let the cards fall where they may."_

"_What kind of bullshit is this?" Bianca snorted. "You're one to talk – you've _never_ let fate stop you before."_

_Chris shook his head slightly, refusing to meet her gaze, "You don't understand."_

"_What don't I understand?'' Bianca moved forward to place her hand on his chin, tilting his face upwards to meet hers. Her eyes searched his, "Help me understand."_

_He jerked away from her touch as if it stung, ignoring the hurt look in her eyes, "I can't do this. Not anymore." He paused, his voice lowering to a whisper, "Not alone."_

"_Chris…" Bianca regarded him tenderly, "You're not alone. You'll never be alone. You have Darryl and his kids. Lilah. Zach. Duncan." _

"_It's not the same." His gaze was pained as he stared back at her, repeating softly, "It's not the same."_

"_It hasn't been for a long time," Bianca pointed out gently. "But you still have a job to do."_

_Chris laughed humourlessly, "What? Making sure the rest of my friends get killed off protecting a bunch of idiots who couldn't care less about us?"_

"_Chris, we help innocents because it's the right thing to do. You know that." _

_Chris felt his anger build, his voice incredulous, "The right thing to do?" He snorted bitterly, his voice escalating with each heartfelt word, "What sort of lame ass reason is that? Doing the right thing won't bring Les back! It won't bring Sheila back! Or Wyatt or Mom!" His voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, "Or you." _

_Bianca's eyes turned sympathetic, "It's not about me. It's NEVER been about me." She paused, "Or Wyatt. Or your mom. Or even you. It's about everyone else."_

_Like a child, Chris shook his head, not wanting to hear the truth in her words, "It's not fair."_

"_Life's not fair," Bianca pointed out logically, echoing the same words he had once voiced himself. "You know that."_

_His breath emerged in a puff, "Yeah? Well, it still sucks." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he threw a bleak look in her direction, "I'm starting to think nothing ever changes. And maybe nothing ever will." _

"_You don't believe that."_

"_Oh?" Chris' eyebrow shot up sarcastically, irrationally irritated by Bianca's easy dismissal of his doubts. "Since you seem to know everything, what exactly do you think I believe then?"_

_Bianca studied him for a moment before saying seriously, "You believe in love. In friendship. In family." She let her words sink in before continuing, "After all, isn't that what you always told me we were fighting for?"_

"_Maybe…maybe I did…then," Chris said wistfully. His voice was sad, "But I'm not sure I do anymore…"_

"_Why?" Bianca shook her head, genuinely puzzled. "You said it yourself, nothing changes. So what's changed for you?"_

"I've_ changed," Chris replied, barely audible. His eyes slid away from hers, "Don't you get it? _I've_ changed." He felt his cheeks heat with shame, "I…I think I've given up."_

"_You mean you've given up on the future? On saving Wyatt?" Bianca asked him, her tone perfectly neutral. "On saving me?"_

"_Wyatt's…gone. And…," Chris trailed off as he studied his beloved sadly._

"_And?" Bianca challenged him, her chin lifting slightly._

"_And you're not real. None of this is real."_

Bolting up from his bed in a cold sweat, Chris cursed as he slammed his head against the headboard. Rubbing his head gingerly, he shook his head clear of the cobwebs leftover from his dream and the spots in his eyes from his injury. Swinging his legs over the bed, he made his way unsteadily into the bathroom. Flipping on the harsh light, he leaned over the sink, breathing heavily. He glanced upwards to study his reflection in the mirror, not surprised to see his cheeks were damp.

It shouldn't have disturbed him so much. Ever since Bianca's death, he'd dream of her intermittently. Logically, he knew it was his brain conjuring up her image as a representation of his conscience as he mulled over problems in his sleep. More often than not, he was able to work out whatever was bothering him. She would tease and prod and generally sass him until his mind came up with a satisfactory response. And he'd smile back, savouring her sweet smile, her soft voice and her clear eyes – enjoying the time they spent together, even if it was only in his dreams.

But it still hurt. It hurt because her death was still felt so fresh…like Wyatt's…like his mother's…like Les'.

He had meant every word he'd said earlier to his father – he _didn't_ care. He didn't care because if he didn't care, then he didn't have to feel. He didn't have to feel anger, or sadness, or heartache. Or any emotion at all, for that matter.

_And what would Mom say?_

He cringed at the insistent voice of his conscience. What would his Mom of fourteen years say if she saw him now? Hell, what would the current version of his mom say? He could almost picture her soft brown eyes studying him sadly, shaking her head at him in disappointment. He'd given up. Given up on the future…on Wyatt. On their family.

His despair swelled up inside him, threatening to suffocate him.

He forced himself to look at his image in the mirror. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His face was covered with red splotches, running over his neck and the rest of his body. His skin was gaunt…yellow. The illness was taking its toll – slowly but surely stripping away everything that made him, well…_him_. Everything, that is, except his beliefs.

His beliefs were the only thing he had left. And when they buried him in the earth, it would the only thing he would leave behind.

His fingers clenched around the sink.

His mom would have kicked his ass.

It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself.

It was time to shoulder his responsibilities once more instead of wilfully ignoring them.

Bianca was right.

It was time to change destiny.

_

* * *

3 days left… _

"He really scared me…," Piper said softly, recalling the events of the other day. "It was…he was just so _angry_, Leo."

The two parents, along with Piper's sisters, were sitting together in the mess hall. The early morning hour meant it was relatively empty. A couple of scouts had staggered in for a bite to eat and had sequestered themselves on the other side of the hall, effectively ignoring the only other occupants in the room. That suited Leo just fine. They needed the privacy.

Returning his focus to the conversation at hand, Leo nodded wearily, "He's still angry. And he probably will be for a long time. Something like that…it doesn't go away over night, Piper."

Piper raised her worried eyes over the rim of her coffee mug, "I'm worried about him, Leo. Not just the illness, though that still scares the hell out of me. But…he just looked…so defeated."

"I agree. I think Kate's death and now Les' has really hit him hard," Leo sighed, rubbing his face wearily. "When I spoke with him yesterday…he was…lost."

"Lost?" Paige's forehead crinkled in worry as she and Phoebe exchanged concerned glances, "What do you mean, lost?"

"He's starting to question himself. Question his actions, his beliefs," Leo's face turned sad, recalling Chris' bitter tirade. "Question…everything."

"I can understand that," Piper sighed, pushing her coffee mug away. "When Prue died…" Piper's voice broke, "I was angry too. I…it was…hard." She looked at her sisters, "It was hard for all of us."

As Leo reached across the table to squeeze Piper's hand, Paige cleared her throat rather awkwardly, "So, what are we going to do?"

"We are going to do everything we can to help Chris," Piper said firmly. "Beginning with finding him a cure for this illness he has."

Paige's face clouded, "Piper – do you really think it's possible for us to find one when Ben and Lilah haven't been able to?"

Piper's face hardened as she snapped, "This illness is magic related. That means there's a potion we can brew or a spell we can write that will fix things."

Phoebe cleared her throat uncomfortably, "But what if there's not? What if we can't – ?"

"I don't want to hear that!" Piper said sharply. Catching Phoebe's hurt expression, Piper bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. Her voice lowered, "I _can't_ hear that."

Seeing Piper's expression, Phoebe realized just how close to the edge Piper was. Without hesitation, she reached out with her hand to gently touch her sister's arm in support, "I know." She glanced over at Paige before turning back to Piper, "We all know."

Paige nodded in agreement, "We'll do everything we can, Piper. I promise."

Her smile watery, Piper replied shakily, "Thanks, you guys."

"I hate to interrupt, but while you girls look for a cure, I think I'm going to stick to Chris' side," Leo slanted an apologetic look towards Piper. "You know he's not going to just sit back while we try to figure out how to heal him. I'm worried about the valkyrie situation."

Piper nodded slowly, seeing the sense in what Leo was saying. "No, you're right. You need to stick to our son like glue." Looking at her sisters for agreement, " We'll work on finding a cure." She shot a look at Leo, "After I've seen him, of course."

After his talk with Chris about Les, Leo had told the girls to give Chris some space. Seeing the merit in Leo's advice, Piper had agreed reluctantly. However, today was a new day, and Piper wanted to see her son, come hell or high water.

"Piper, I'm not sure that's a good idea…" Leo started to say.

"Why not?" Phoebe piped in as Paige nodded emphatically. "Why shouldn't Piper talk to her son?"

"I think – if he wanted to see us, he would have sought us out already," Leo tried explaining, feeling uneasy as Piper narrowed her gaze at him. His voice trailed off, "I just…"

"A mother knows when her son needs her," Piper sniffed loftily. "I just want to see how he's doing."

As the Charmed Ones glared at him, Leo felt outnumbered and outvoted. Giving in suspiciously quickly, he nodded, suggesting "All right. Let's go looking for him then."

Making their way towards the door, Phoebe glanced at Paige as she said to the two parents, "You two go. Paige and I will get started on research. The sooner we get working, the sooner we'll find that cure."

As the group came to a consensus, they exited the mess hall. The two Charmed sisters took the corridor to the left and the two parents began their search for their wayward son.

* * *

"I need you to prove that she was killed by a darklighter," Chris was saying to Darryl, as the door to the infirmary opened. He ignored the interruption – whoever it was could wait a couple of minutes while he talked with Darryl. "We need to be able to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt. The valkyries won't accept anything less." 

The two men were standing in front of the body that was currently draped in a white sheet. The harsh white lights glinted off the metallic table and drawers in the room giving the room a cold, hard feel. Overhead the florescent lights gave off a slight buzz, just loud enough to be annoying but not enough to be an issue.

Darryl barely controlled the urge to roll his eyes at his young friend, instead replying patiently, "I know, Chris. I'm working on it."

Running his hand through his hair in frustration, Chris shot Darryl an apologetic look, hearing the slight reproof in Darryl's tone. "Sorry. I'm just a little on edge. We've got three days to come up with some concrete proof. Three days, Darryl. Before everything falls apart."

Darryl nodded, his voice quietly confident, "Everything will be okay, Chris. It will be."

"I'm counting on that." Nodding one last time, Chris looked up, catching sight of his parents in the doorway staring at him. His mouth quirked slightly, "Hey. When did you get here?"

Leo shrugged as Piper studied her son for a minute before replying, "Not long."

Motioning for his parents to enter, he reigned in his impatience, he asking mildly, "Was there something you wanted? I'm kind of in the middle of things here."

Piper exchanged a brief glance with her husband before offering, "We just wanted to see you. Make sure you were okay."

Chris suppressed the urge to respond with a sarcastic quip, reminding himself that they were, after all, his parents. About to respond, Chris was distracted as another person poked his head into the room, "Michael. What are you doing here?"

Nodding at Chris' parents, Michael immediately directed his attention to his father and Chris, "We just got a message in from Sheridan's people. They found another body."

As the group stared in shock, Piper was the first to recover, sputtering, "What do you mean, 'another body'?"

"Sheridan sent a runner over to let us know. Apparently they were performing a lockdown of the area where Les was killed so that they could gather evidence and they found the body in one of the sewer tunnels nearby." Michael handed over the sheaf of papers he was holding to Chris, who began to rapidly thumb through them. "The victim was clearly murdered. It's all in that report."

"Do they think the two incidents are connected somehow?" Darryl asked his son, his brow creased in concern.

As all eyes swung to him, Michael shrugged in response, "If they do, they haven't shared that with us. All I know is what I just told you." About to continue, Michael lost his train of thought as he noticed Chris turning a deathly pale. "Chris? What's wrong?" he asked, anxiously.

Chris' eyes were still focused on the papers in front of him, frantically flipping to the end of the report before swearing, "Jesus."

Alarmed, Piper stepped forward, placing her hand on her son's arm in concern, "Chris? What is it?"

His eyes met hers as he croaked, "Elise."

Piper tilted her head slightly, still not comprehending, "Chris? What are you talking about?"

Pulling away, Chris turned his back on the group for a moment, taking a moment to gather his emotions before turning back. Holding aloft the report, his hand shook, "The body. It was Elise."

"Jesus."

"Oh, fuck."

As Michael and Darryl cursed softly, Piper blinked in surprise. "You mean Phoebe's Elise? Her editor at the paper?"

Chris nodded sadly, "The very one."

"Oh my God," Piper breathed, slightly shocked. While she didn't know the Elise here in the future, she was certainly aware of Phoebe's boss from their present. It was one thing for Piper to hear about the human losses Chris dealt with everyday, but it was entirely another matter when the deaths were people she knew personally. As she reeled under the information, Piper felt Leo's comforting hand on her shoulder. Glancing up, she covered his hand with her own, drawing strength from the small gesture. "Who would want to murder Elise?"

"Good question," Chris replied grimly. His mouth tightening, Chris looked at Michael, "I need you to find out how Jeremiah got that gun and why the hell he was working with Zankou. Find out if Elise's death has anything to do with it."

Michael nodded, "Understood. Anything else?"

"Take D.J. with you. And Kyle."

"I'm not sure I want them going back to that city," Darryl protested, worried about his sons' safety – he was well aware of the tension and general anti-magical-being feelings that were running through the city. "The situation is shaky, at best. With everything that's been going on, is it safe to send our people there right now?"

Chris nodded firmly, "That's why I want D.J. and Michael to go. They're humans. They should get in, no problem. Plus, Sheridan knows them both. And Kyle goes with them in case they need to get out of there."

"You're assuming they can clear the city limits in time if something happens," Darryl growled. "I don't think –,"

"Dad!" Michael interrupted, before the argument could continue. "Don't worry. D.J. and I have everything under control. It'll be fine."

Whipping around, Darryl glared at his son, "Everything is not fine, Michael! Those people killed Les! What makes you think they won't turn around and kill you and your brother!"

"Not everyone is like that, Dad. You know that. That anti-witch stuff is just a small faction. Chris is right – at the end of the day, D.J. and I are humans. No powers. Zilch. They won't attack us. If they did, it would kill any support they have with the moderates," Michael glanced over at Chris. "I'm worried more about Kyle than I am about D.J. and me."

"He's a whitelighter," Chris replied evenly, who had been silently observing the battle of wills between father and son. "Even they know that's practically an angel. Who the hell is going to justify killing an angel?"

"Good point," Michael conceded.

"I still don't like it," Darryl grumbled. "Zach or one of the other telepaths should go with them, too. Just in case."

Chris shook his head, "No. Zach's a witch. He'd be an instant target. I don't want to push my luck too far. Besides, I have something else I need him to do. And I need people I trust to be on the ground floor."

Before Darryl could argue the point further, Michael cut him off, "Dad. Chris is right. If anything, people need to see that they don't need to be afraid of us. Bringing in a telepath would just put everyone on edge. And this isn't anymore dangerous than when we were at war with Wyatt. If we can do anything to prevent that from happening again…"

Running his fingers through his hair in frustration, Darryl sighed, "Fine. But I want you back in 24 hours, max. Or I'm sending out a search party for you."

Michael broke into a grin, "As long as you explain it to D.J. later if you do."

Darryl snorted, well aware of his eldest son's vehement independence, "Let me handle your brother."

Michael clapped his father on the arm before nodding at Chris, "I'll leave within the hour. I know we're on a strict timeline."

Chris paused before asking hesitantly, "You still have your gun from your rookie days?"

Michael nodded solemnly, "You think things could come to that?"

Ignoring the accusatory glares from his parents, Chris' eyes met Darryl's even as he directed his response to Michael, "I think it would be a good precaution to take."

Nodding at his friend one last time, Michael bid his father goodbye and excused himself.

As the door closed, Chris looked over at Kate's body one last time, her profile silhouetted by the white cloth, "We've got three days, Darryl. Let's not waste them."

* * *

She had held her silence while Chris and Darryl had finished up, biting her tongue from interrupting. The idea of _anyone_ caring firearms, let alone one of her sons encouraging it…well, suffice to say it was a struggle but she managed. 

Just.

Watching her son carefully, Piper could see his red splotches had increased in size and number, creeping past the collar of his shirt and edging towards the nape of his neck. No longer a pinkish tone, the liver spots had started to take on an almost purplish hue. Although the temperature in the room was comfortably cool, beads of sweat were dotting Chris' forehead. His skin tone was a sallow yellow, and his eyes, normally bright and alert were alarmingly dull. The dark circles under his eyes and the sunken cheeks indicated to her that Chris was still clearly experiencing difficulty in sleeping.

_What if we can't find a cure?_, and for a brief second, she couldn't breathe.

Shaking herself slightly, Piper forced herself to bury her anxieties. There wasn't time to indulge in a hysterical fit. Things were coming to a head with the valkyries and the humans. And Chris needed their help…_her_ help. Phoebe and Paige would find a cure. They had to. There was no other choice.

And at that moment she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around her son and hold him tight.

His conversation with Darryl finally coming to an end, Chris stepped around his parents into the hallway, completely oblivious to Piper's inner turmoil. He paused, realizing they weren't following him, looking back, "You coming?"

Piper exchanged a glance with her husband before they both trailed after their son. She cleared her throat awkwardly, "Where are we going?"

"The command room. I'm suppose to be meeting Duncan there shortly," Chris explained over his shoulder as his long legs ate up the floor. "He's supposed to have complied all our intel on Zankou so that we can start planning how we're going to go after him."

"Is that wise?" Piper asked dubiously.

"Wise?" Chris repeated with an ironic lift of his right eyebrow. "No. But necessary. If we can't prove to the valkyries Kate was killed by a darklighter, I'm going to have to somehow get Zankou to confess."

"How are you going to do that?" Leo asked doubtfully, easily keeping pace with his offspring as Piper cursed her genetics as she resorted to jogging to keep up. "If Zankou is involved, he's been involved for a long time. He's likely had some sort of plan."

Coughing slightly, Chris sounded weary as he tried to shrug nonchalantly, "I don't know. Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?"

Concern marking her brow, Piper picked up her pace to pass her son and cut his path off. Standing in front of him with her arms akimbo, she demanded, "How are you feeling?"

"Honestly?" Chris abruptly came to a stop due to his mother blocking his path. "Not that hot. Happy now?" Manoeuvring himself around Piper, he continued walking to his destination.

Blinking at how easily Chris had sidestepped her, Piper quickly caught up to her son again to plant herself directly in front of him. As he attempted to pass her, she matched him step for step, preventing him from continuing forward until at last, he exclaimed exasperated, "Mom!"

Ignoring the plaintive wail in his voice, she merely directed her gaze at Leo who tried not to grin at the mother-son confrontation happening in front of his eyes. She scowled at her husband, pointing at Chris, "Heal. Now."

An aggravated sigh emerged from Chris' mouth but he wisely choose not to offer any protest as Leo stepped forward, placing his hands on Chris' back. As the golden glow hummed, Piper hovered anxiously, "Any better?"

Chris didn't feel any different; a clear indication to him that the illness was moving into its final stages. However, he knew better than to tell Piper that; instead, he replied earnestly, "Much. Thanks."

Piper's eyes narrowed at her son's blithe tone as she accused, "You're lying."

His eyes held hers, "Yes."

"Chris –,"

"Not now," he replied brusquely, brushing past his mother. He paused as Piper caught his arm, forcing him to turn back. His green eyes met hers, "Not now."

"Then when?" Piper asked a bit desperately. She threw a pleading look in Leo's direction, "Leo. Tell him he needs to take it easy. He needs to rest."

As Leo opened his mouth, Chris cut him off, "There are more important things going on right now."

"More important than your health?" Piper shot back.

"More important than you _or_ me," Chris replied tiredly. He rubbed his face wearily, "You know I'm right."

Shaking her head, Piper could feel a sharp pain in her chest as each word felt like a slap to the face. He was right – there were more important things going on then the well-being of her son.

Just not to her.

Ready to protest, she snapped her mouth closed as she saw the resigned look in Chris' eyes. He knew there wasn't anything more to be done for his illness – they would either find a cure or not. He knew his responsibilities lay with the valkyrie-mortal crisis first. He knew what was important.

She could only marvel at his unselfishness.

"I love you," Piper offered tearfully.

A ghost of a smile flitted across Chris' lips, "I love you too, Mom." He let her pull him into her embrace, allowing her to draw comfort from the small gesture. He glanced over at his father who was watching them both solemnly, "Everything will be okay. I promise."

Leo studied him gravely, "I'll hold you to that."

Releasing her son from her strong embrace, Piper stepped back, studying her son. Reaching out, she tentatively touched the side of his face. She could feel the heat emanating from his skin – too warm to be normal. She searched his eyes, looking for the truth behind that statement and seeing only a resignation that made her want to cry.

"Mom," Chris reached out to catch his mother's hand in his grasp, squeezing it hard. "Mom, you have to trust me."

"_Why should we believe you after all the lies?" Leo demanded, his voice ringing with anger._

"_Because you have to,"_

_Piper shook her head, ignoring the pleading tone in his voice, "No, Chris, we don't, actually."_

Shaking her head clear of the memories of yesteryear, Piper smiled tremulously, saying firmly, "Always, baby."

Chris' eyes flashed, realizing there was more to his mother's statement than that simple promise, though what exactly he wasn't sure. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he looked for support from his father, "Can we get going now then?"

Leo nodded, "You said Duncan was waiting for you?"

"Yeah. We were suppose to meet yesterday but I just didn't have time," Chris' pace quickened and the trio continued down the corridor, cutting across the base quickly. Turning the final corner, they emerged in the main hall where Chris led the way into the nearby centre of activity.

Like their previous visit, Piper easily identified the large conference centre as the hub of the Resistance. However, unlike their previous visit, the atmosphere in the room was distinctly different. Whereas before there was an almost controlled chaos now there was a feeling of hyperactivity. The room was packed to overflowing; security concerns obviously not a priority anymore. Telepaths were still controlling the communications network but people entered and left the area freely.

Chris intercepted the questioning look from his mother to his father, "Things have changed. Wyatt's not a threat any longer – we can operate a little more freely now." He nodded at group of telepaths currently engaged in a heated conversation with another group of people gesturing wildly, "Our usual emergencies are more on the logistical side – who needs supplies, what kind of supplies they need and how we're going to get it to them. The scout contingent has been reduced – significantly."

"Is that wise?" Leo asked, doubtfully. "After all, with all the problems you've been having with the valkyries –,"

Chris shrugged, keeping his thoughts to himself, "I can't force people to stay, Dad. The war with Wyatt, for all intents and purposes, is over. We're supposed to be in peacetime."

Before Leo could continue the conversation, a head poked out from one of the meeting rooms that offshoot from the main command centre. "Chris? That you?" Duncan's voice shouted over the noisy clatter of their fellow Resistance members. "Over here."

Waving his hand to indicate he had heard him, Chris began to manoeuvre his way through the crowd, weaving his way in and out. Not knowing what else to do, Leo and Piper followed behind, apologizing as they bumped into countless individuals in the sea of bodies filling the room to its brim.

With a sigh of relief, Chris darted into the room where Duncan was waiting, shutting the door on the noise behind them as soon as his parents were inside. Grateful for the muted quiet, he arched his eyebrow at Duncan, "What the hell?"

"Sorry," Duncan offered, "It's crazy out there today. One of the supply trucks that was suppose to make a drop off at New York was waylaid."

"Waylaid?" Leo shook his head, not comprehending. "What do you mean?"

Shooting a questioning look at Chris, who just shrugged, Duncan explained, "We've been trying to move supplies in unmarked vehicles. Somehow, someone found out we were going to make a drop at NYC and forced our vehicles off the road on the way to the drop. They managed to make off with most of the supplies before back up arrived."

"Who would do such a thing? Demons wouldn't need mortal supplies, would they?" Piper asked aloud.

Again, sharing a grave look with Chris, Duncan hesitated before replying, "It wasn't demons."

"If it wasn't demons then who – ," Piper stopped abruptly as the implications sank in. "Oh my God. You mean humans?"

Chris nodded solemnly, "This isn't the first time it's happened. Supplies are scarce here – you can't blame people for trying to survive."

"I can if it takes away supplies from other people who have a right to it!" Duncan bit out angrily.

"In their minds, they have just as much right to those supplies as to the individuals the supplies were ultimately intended for," Chris pointed out, his hand running through his hair in frustration. "Any casualties?"

Duncan shook his head, "No. I told our team we weren't to engage, like you ordered. And luckily, we didn't sustain any injuries on our side, either."

"I can see the sense in that but not being able to defend yourself? Is that really necessary?" Leo interrupted his son's conversation, puzzled.

Chris saw the scowl on Duncan's face, "I know you didn't agree with that decision, but we can't let ourselves be drawn into a fight. Even though these mortals are in the wrong, if one of them got hurt, we'd be seen as the wrong doers here."

"But it basically means our guys are sitting ducks," Duncan complained. "And we can't even get the supplies to the people expecting it. And let me tell you, they aren't happy either."

"No one wins in that situation," Chris said logically to his parents. He turned back to his friend, "But the important thing is to make sure it doesn't escalate into violence – Duncan, I know we're walking a fine line here but I need to know you've made it clear to our side that we can't engage. Period."

Duncan sighed heavily, "I've made it crystal clear. Anyone out of line will answer to _me_, even if more than half the time I agree with them." Switching topics, Duncan finally got a good look at his friend, "You look like hell."

"Thanks. I'll be sure to schedule an appointment with my beautician," Chris replied sarcastically.

"See?" Piper was quick to jump in, "I'm not the only one who thinks so!"

Duncan eyed Chris carefully before saying bluntly in response to Chris' comment, "Maybe with a mortician more likely."

"Nice to see you, too. Why don't you tell me how you really feel?" Chris responded dryly.

Duncan shrugged, "Sorry – just took me by surprise."

Chris scowled, "Just tell me what you know about Zankou's activities."

"That's just it," Duncan sighed. He waved his hand in frustration, "We haven't been able to dig up anything. He's been laying low – we've haven't got any confirmed sightings in the past month. He could be anywhere, for all we know."

"He has to be in the San Francisco area if he was meeting with Jeremiah, right?" Piper offered, glancing at her son who appeared to be deep in thought. "Chris?"

"What? Oh, right," Chris nodded, obviously not really paying attention.

Not sure what to make of his son's distracted air, Leo offered, "Have you focused your efforts in the Bay area then?"

Duncan pulled out a map, unrolling it on the nearby table so they could study it. "The last sighting we got was about two months ago, here." He stabbed his finger at the point, "And then it's like he dropped out of sight."

Studying the map over his wife's shoulder, Leo tapped his finger against the mark on the map, "Maybe we start searching here, then. Find something that could tell us where he's hiding now."

Duncan nodded in agreement, "I was thinking the same thing – a concentrated sweep in that area and then move southwards." He let his finger trail downwards, running across the surface of the map, "We'd have to set up a hard perimeter though to make sure he doesn't slip past us."

Piper looked up at Leo, not really able to contribute as the three studied the tactical plan. "How long will that take? We've got less than three days, Leo."

Duncan sighed again, "That's the problem. There's no way we can mount such a tactical undertaking in the amount of time we have left. Plus – there's no guarantee that we'd even find him. The intel is two months old, after all."

About to ask Duncan what other options they had, Leo was cut off by a snap of the fingers. The three people crowded around the map turned their heads towards Chris who was pacing back and forth, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Chris?" Leo asked questioningly.

"Duncan – you said the intel's two months old?" Chris stopped his pacing to stare at his friend.

"Uh, yeah. Thereabouts," Duncan nodded, not knowing where Chris was heading with his line of questioning. "I can find out the exact timeframe if you want me to."

"No," Chris shook his head. "That isn't necessary. But I think I have a plan."

Duncan perked up, "Yeah? What?"

"You said it would take too long to mount a tactical search and destroy operation, right?" Chris waited as Duncan nodded in affirmation. "We're going about this the wrong way. There's no way we could go after Zankou with a team. He'd see us coming from a mile away. And frankly, we don't have the resources to spare."

"So what are you suggesting?" Leo was trying to follow Chris' logic. "That we don't need to search out Zankou?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"But, but we need to prove to the valkyries it's been Zankou all along!" Duncan protested.

"You're not listening," Chris placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. "We don't need to search out Zankou. We don't have time for that. What we need to do is get him to come to us."

"How?" Piper gaped, her mind spinning at her son's words.

Chris' eyes brightened, "We set a trap."

* * *

To be continued… 


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: Many, many, many thanks to all the readers and reviewers: Lovepadfoot5867, charmedtomeetyou, mpj3, Sparkling Cherries, Zeria, Icantthinkofafnick, Charmed Ravenclaw, girl-with-the-green-eyes, chattypandagurl. A little bit longer than usual chapter – what can I say, you guys inspire me. And yes – that IS a reference to Hyde School Reunion…

P.S. Sorry to everyone who may have got the update twice – I was having problems (as usual!) uploading earlier.

**

* * *

The End of All Things**

**Chapter 12**

_

* * *

2 days left…_

Hearing a loud rap on his door, Michael glanced up in time before it was opened abruptly to see his brother poke his head in. "Aren't you suppose to wait for me to tell you to enter?"

Shrugging, DJ pushed the door the rest of the way open to reveal Kyle behind him. The two men crossed the threshold as DJ pointedly looked at his watch, "You're late."

Scowling at his brother, Michael glanced over at the kitchen clock hanging on the opposite wall, "No, your watch is fast. I'm right on time." Turning his back on his brother and Kyle, Michael continued to rummage through his drawers, pulling out a small metal case and placing it on the nearby table.

"What's that?" Kyle nodded his head in the direction of the rusted army-green tin, watching as Michael fiddled with the lock.

Both brothers ignored him, as DJ silently elbowed his brother out of the way. Squinting at the combination lock, DJ expertly flipped the numbers to open the box with a flourish. Presenting the box to his brother, DJ merely rolled his eyes, "I knew I should have kept it at my place."

"Very funny," Michael replied sourly. Gently, he peeled back the layers of cloth to reveal two police badges. Picking up one gently, he handed it to his brother, "You think we'll ever get to use these again?"

Taking the shield gingerly from his brother, DJ gently blew the dust off it, watching the small flecks generate a small dust cloud before disappearing from sight. He looked down at the piece of brass he held in his hand, sadness evident in his tone, "I don't know."

Clearing his throat rather loudly, Kyle stared at the two, "As much as I'm loving this trip down memory lane, we do have a job to do, guys." Nostalgia was all well and good but now was not the time.

Trading glances with DJ, Michael finally lifted the cloth away to reveal his goal. There, nestled in a swath of cloth lay two gleaming hand pistols. Silently, he handed one to DJ while he picked up the other.

"What the hell?" Kyle's face was stunned.

Checking the clip, DJ slammed it back into the chamber. Making sure the safety was on, he lifted the back of his shirt to discreetly tuck the weapon between his pants and the small of his back. Lowering his shirt, he checked the mirror for his appearance before turning back to see Michael replicate his actions. Taking in Kyle's astonished gaze, DJ said merely, "Les is dead, Kyle."

The whitelighter swallowed, obviously battling his natural pacifist whitelighter instincts and the common sense his previous law enforcement knowledge afforded him. Breathing deeply, he seemed to come to a decision, "Okay."

"If it makes you feel better, I don't want to have to use it any more than you want me to," Michael offered.

"It doesn't but you get points for trying," Kyle replied resignedly. Looking over at DJ, "Are we ready to go then?"

Shooting Michael a furtive look, DJ fumbled as he spoke to Kyle, "Uh. Yeah. Look – Kyle…"

"Yeah?" Kyle said a little impatiently.

"Look," Waiting for Michael's nod, DJ plunged forward, "look, if something…if things look like they're going sour…someone has to make it back here to tell Chris."

"What are you talking about?" Kyle asked, bewildered. "What do you mean, someone has to make it back?"

Spelling it out for his friend, DJ continued as Michael looked at him encouragingly, "Look – we don't know how we'll be received. So…Michael and I discussed. If it looks like things are going to get out of hand, we split up. Give them more targets to chase. And you get your ass back here."

"You mean, you and Michael will distract them as bait while I'm suppose to leave you behind to orb back here?" Kyle asked shrewdly. He shook his head adamantly, "No way, man. That's not how things work. We go together, we leave together." He glared at the two brothers, "I've never, and I mean _never_, left a man behind."

"Look Kyle, we're not saying it'll come to that…but if it does, you have the best, the _best_, chance of getting back here to warn the others. We have to know – if you need to leave us, you will," DJ stared his friend down, his tone firm.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Kyle shook his head. Holding his hand to forestall DJ's arguments, "Chances are, if things 'go sour' like you're worried it might, the first person they're going to go after is me. They _know_ I can orb – I'm your meal ticket. If they're gunning for us, you can be sure I'm going to be the turkey."

As DJ opened his mouth to argue again, Michael stepped in, "No, DJ. Kyle's right. These folks – they'll know Kyle's a whitelighter. They know what that means, what powers he has. It makes tactical sense to take out our only means of transportation first. Kyle would be the primary target and we'd be secondary." Michael swore, "Christ, I can't fucking believe we're talking like this."

"Better to be prepared, I say," DJ shrugged. "Fine – if things go south, one of us needs to get back here. We all split up, give them too many targets to choose from, hopefully, with the main goal that one of us makes it back to alert Chris." He looked gravely at his companions, "Agreed?"

The three men exchanged sobering glances. Nodding firmly, Michael stuck his fist out as DJ did the same, their knuckles touching. The two brothers turned their gaze on Kyle, who was clearly conflicted.

Gazing at the faces of his two friends, he could feel the weight of their unspoken agreement deep in his gut. He knew it was the most logical contingency plan but he wasn't sure he'd be able to, if the time came. Seeing the same fears and doubts in their eyes reflected back at him, Kyle swallowed resolutely, "All right. Let's do this."

Knowing he was swearing to something he hoped would never come to pass, the whitelighter touched his fist to theirs in camaraderie, silently whispering up a prayer.

_Please, God. _

* * *

Chris scowled, squinting at the hazy writing on the page in front of him, willing for the blurred images to meld into one. As his tired eyes refused to accommodate him, he swore and fed up, with a quick flick of his wrist, tossed the report across the table away from him in disgust. Sighing, he stretched slightly, leaning back against his chair.

God, he felt ill.

And not your sick to the stomach kind of ill. No – at this point that would have been a welcome, if inconvenient, respite from his current infliction. No, this was a deep seeded, energy draining, soul-sucking, determination rotting disease. It permeated through his body, entwining itself into the very fabric of his breath – making every effort to move, let alone breathe, a battle of sheer willpower.

Seated across from him, Leo eyed his son worriedly, "You okay?"

"How the hell do you think I am?" Chris snapped, his temper short from lack of sleep and the dull, throbbing pain currently stabbing his head. Seeing Leo's expression, he quickly backtracked, "Sorry. I guess I'm irritable."

Accepting the apology, Leo tilted his head in his son's direction, his eyes still gravely watching him, "I think, under the circumstances, you're allowed."

"Now you're just trying to make me feel bad," Chris accused his father half-jokingly as he groaned. "Any luck so far?"

The two men were currently ensconced in Chris' room – a welcome change from the chaos of activity in the command centre. A map of San Francisco was unrolled in front of them and a small pad of paper lay to Chris' right, small neat markings littering its surface.

Leo shook his head. "I think your original assessment is right. San Francisco is the best strategic location – if you can lure him close enough, we can trap him in the no-orbing zone."

"Of course the million dollar question is how do we lure him," Chris quipped, his frustration seeping through a touch and colouring his voice. He looked down at the pad, "Are you sure this is the spell Mom and the girls used before?"

"Yes – and they're your 'aunts', not girls," Leo reminded his son rather absentmindedly as he went over the words again. "I'm fairly sure, anyways."

"Fairly sure?" Chris' eyebrows shot up, ignoring Leo's other choice comment. "We have enough uncertainty going into this thing as it is – and you're '_fairly_ _sure'_ we have the right spell?"

"Nothing is certain – you know that," Leo pointed out, watching as fear flitted across Chris' face so quickly that Leo thought he might have imagined it. "And if it doesn't work, the girls will figure something out. You have to trust that."

A flash of something else flared in Chris' eyes but he only said, "How come you get to call them 'girls' and I can't? I did when I was acting as their whitelighter and you never said anything."

"That was before we knew who you were," Leo replied patiently. "But now that we know who you are, you should show a little respect to your elders, particularly your mother and her sisters."

"Are you parenting me?" Chris blinked rapidly in disbelief as the conversation began to take on a direction he would have never anticipated. "Man, being an Elder has really melted your brain, hasn't it? Or has it escaped your notice that I'm an adult and maybe just a touch old for you to start giving me advice now?"

Leo looked at his son sternly, "You may be an adult but you will _always_ be my son. And my children treat their elders with respect."

Chris gaped at his father, "This is unbelievable. I'm trying to prevent a war and you're telling me to mind my manners. Have I entered the twilight zone?"

The corners of Leo's mouth turned up in a small smile, "No need to be so dramatic. It was just a gentle reminder, that's all."

Snorting slightly, Chris responded rather sarcastically, "Jesus Christ. What's next? A lesson on cursing?"

"Actually…" Leo let his voice trail off as the look on his son's face began to resemble a deer caught in headlights. Slightly amused, Leo tried to keep a straight face, "Tell you what, champ. I think you have enough on your mind lately. We'll save that for another day."

Narrowing his eyes at his father, Chris wasn't sure if Leo was completely joking. Deciding to take advantage of the reprieve while he could, he switched back to the topic at hand, "All right then. We're agreed. The outskirts of San Francisco should do it." Chris pointed at a small mark on the map, "I think this is the best place. The surrounding hills can give us a strategic view of the area undetected. And it's far enough from the main gate that we shouldn't have any stray innocents wandering around."

Leo nodded, "I came to the same conclusion. Now how exactly were you planning to lure Zankou there?"

Chris grimaced, "Actually – I don't really know yet."

His mouth hanging open, Leo stared at Chris, "What? I thought that was the whole point of this planning session. To work out the details."

"I'm working on it," Chris protested defensively at his father's accusatory gaze.

"Why doesn't your tone exactly inspire confidence in me?" Leo sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. Leo looked at little exasperatedly at his son, "Do you even have some sort of – _idea_ on how you're going to get him there?"

"I was sort of hoping DJ and those guys will stumble across a lead with Jeremiah," Chris confessed. "That's sort of where I was going with this…"

"Did I never teach you about putting all your eggs in one basket?" Leo shook his head.

"You never really taught me anything at all," Chris shot back, his temper frayed. Again, he felt remorse as he registered at Leo's pained expression. _Damn it, why can't I keep my mouth shut?_ After all, he knew it wasn't _this_ version of Leo with which he had issues. "Sorry. I didn't mean that." Seeing Leo's sceptical look, Chris reiterated, "No, really. I…" Chris cursed, running his hand through his hair in frustration as he tried to explain himself, "I know it's not _you_, per se. I mean – it's not like you've done anything…yet. But sometimes…you are _him_, in a way." The words were jumbled as Chris struggled to voice his feelings, "I don't mean to hurt you. It's…it's not a conscious thing. I know you're different from…him…but…it's hard." He glanced up at his father from beneath his lashes contritely, "Okay?"

Leo studied his son, weighing his own response carefully before saying, "I understand. But you are right – I _am_ him, in a way. And as much as I'd like to think I'm going to be a good father to you…when you let things slip like you just did – I don't know what to think."

Chris' eyes dropped to the table, "Look – we've gotten to know each other pretty well this past year, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I'd say so," Leo agreed, a little bewildered with where Chris was going with this line of questioning.

"Then trust me when I say that the dad I grew up with would never, _never_ have bonded with me the way we have these past few months," Chris raised his eyes to meet his father's, regret clearly reflected in them, "We never had the same rapport that you and I have." His tone was curiously flat as he finished, "Ever."

Hating to hear the sadness in Chris' voice and knowing he was, no matter what Chris said, in some way responsible, Leo swallowed, "I'm sorry."

Chris shrugged it off, focusing his attention back on the map, "Don't be. It never – it isn't your fault." Chris shot a sharp look at his father, "Not yet, anyways."

Leo winced, "Message received loud and clear." Hesitantly, Leo reached across to grip his son's arm tightly, "I'm going to be a good father to you, Chris. I swear it."

"I know." He cleared his throat awkwardly, uncomfortable with the emotional tension in the air. Ostensibly, Chris made a couple more notes before asking, "Where's mom?"

Able to read between the lines, Leo withdrew his hand and allowed his son to change the topic of conversation, "I think she went to check on her sisters. They've been trying to work on a potion or spell to help you with your illness."

Chris' right eyebrow shot up, "I hate to burst your bubble, but you do realize that Ben and Lilah are probably the ultimate resources on magic right now and if they can't help me…Anyways, Mom _should_ be helping us trying to figure out how to trap Zankou."

"You said it yourself," Leo quickly latched onto Chris' words. "They're the most knowledgeable on magic – _right now_. Maybe your mom and aunts can bring a bit of their own experiences to the table."

Almost angrily, Chris gathered the papers into a messy pile and headed for the door, abruptly bringing their conversation to an end, "You'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath."

"What are you afraid of?" Leo pushed away from the table to quickly chase after his son. "That they might actually find a cure? That maybe things will work out?"

Whirling on his father, Chris' green eyes flared as he retorted, "You think I want to die? You think I want this?" He waved his hand up and down his body length, agitated with his father's words, "You think I want to _be_ like this? That I like hearing this constant buzzing noise in my brain that makes me want to drill holes in my skull? That I enjoy this dull, throbbing ache in my bones that just won't go away? That I like having my hair fall out, my skin turn red and see myself rotting away slowly every day I wake up and look in the mirror? That I get off on being tired, irritable…_weak_?" As Leo blanched at his son's harsh words, Chris snorted, "If you think that, then maybe you don't know me as well as I thought you did."

Leo heard the bitterness in Chris' voice but could offer no comfort. Instead, Leo pleaded hoarsely, trying to understand, "Then why?"

"Why do I think the sisters should be focusing on helping us with Zankou?" Chris shook his head slowly as he pointed out the obvious, at least to him, "Because there are more important things at stake here. Like I told mom and like I'm telling you. In the grand scheme of things…_I_ don't matter."

Biting his lip, Leo studied his son. The skin around Chris' eyes was bruised; the blood vessels likely broken. His lips were dry and cracked, even bleeding in some places. His skin was a ghastly yellow, with unsightly red splotches now completely leeching everywhere. Everything about his son screamed to Leo that Chris was dying.

And there was nothing Leo could do.

God, he wanted to wail his fists against fate at that moment. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life, as a human or as a whitelighter. His son – a good, decent man – was dying and he, the father, couldn't save or help him.

Leo held Chris' steadfast gaze with one of his own, seeing the sheer determination and resolution in Chris' eyes. If Chris could be strong, then by God, so could he. It was the very least that a father could do for his son. Inclining his head slightly, Leo's voice was firm, "You're right. Let's go find your mother. She needs to help us with this."

* * *

"You took your sweet time getting here," Sheridan said waspishly as she eyed the three men approaching her. She looked at her watch rather pointedly, "I was told you'd be here an hour ago. And considering your transportation consists of orbing…"

"Hello to you, too," D.J. replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The look she gave him could have levelled a building. _How does Chris put up with this?_ "Sorry – we got held up."

"You're damn lucky I didn't have any meetings scheduled today." Turning crisply on her heel, Sheridan began to lead the way back to city hall. "Well, now that you're here, I guess we can get on with this." Motioning for them to follow her, she looked over at D.J. and asked him point blank, "Any problems with the border patrol when you checked in?"

The three men quickly fell in step, with D.J. stretching his legs slightly to keep abreast with the current mayor of San Francisco. He shook his head, "No. Although I think one of the guards was giving Kyle a strange look. Anything I need to be concerned about?"

Sheridan continued to quickly stride through the halls, taking a left before halting at a nearby staircase. She paused at the top of the stairs to address her visitors, "No. At least – I don't think so. I had to make a couple of rearrangements."

As the quartet began to descend the stairs in a light jog, Michael was intrigued, "What do you mean?"

Pausing at one of the landings, Sheridan looked up at Michael who was a couple of paces behind. "Did you know Jeremiah was in charge of staffing the border guards?"

"No," Kyle shot an unreadable glance at Michael. "So?"

"So, I think he was staffing them with all his cronies," Sheridan explained, once again continuing her way down the stairs. "People who reported to him, as opposed to, say me." At the third landing, she stopped and gestured at the hallway leading away. "We're holding him down here."

"Love what you've done with the place," Michael murmured, his eyes taking in the lack of lighting and general run down condition of the underground floors. A layer of dust seemed to coat everything, dulling the colours of the walls and floors – not necessarily a bad thing in Michael's mind, given the rather alarming shade of orange. He shuddered, wondering how much on sale the paint colour had been because he couldn't imagine anyone actually _wanting_ that colour.

Sheridan ignored him, "We've converted the basement floors as temporary holding cells."

"You need holding cells?" Kyle asked in astonishment.

"As much as I would love to believe that mankind is sweetness and light, you know that isn't the case. It's human nature. We've gotten the odd mugging and disorderly conduct so far. At least – until Jeremiah," Sheridan said darkly. She turned down another hallway that was lined with doors. At a card table nearby, two guards were seated playing cards. She nodded at them, "Gentlemen. How's our house guest doing?"

The thinner one answered as his companion glanced over at him, "Okay, I guess. Haven't heard a peek from him since lunch." He looked down at the log book next to him, "We just checked on him five minutes ago and he was fine."

Smiling at the guard, Sheridan reached across to fill out her information in the log book. "Thanks, Greg. Who's winning? You or Dan?"

Dan grinned, waving at the stack of chips in front of him, "I think I may have to take pity on him soon and switch from no limit hold 'em to 'go fish'."

Laughing as Greg scowled at Dan, Sheridan flipped the log book back to Greg. She pointed at the three men behind her, "You know DJ, Michael and Kyle, right? I think you all worked together in the Resistance, right? Well, they'll be conducting the interview with Jeremiah."

"Of course we know these bastards," Greg and Dan both smiled at the Resistance scouts indicating they were clearly joking. Greg reached across the table to clasp DJ in a strong handshake, "Hey man. How's it going?"

DJ smiled at the older gentleman, "Good. How are you doing? I haven't seen either the two of you since you moved back up world."

The two poker players traded grins. Dan spoke for both, "Things have been good. We've been helping out where we can – you know how things are." His expression turned serious for a moment, "I hope you know all that recent trouble with folks in a tizzy over magic is just a small part of the population. Most of us aren't like that – we know Chris. We know he's a good man."

Michael traded a significant glance with DJ, "Yeah. We know. Chris knows. But it's still alarming."

Greg grimaced, "No kidding. But like Dan said – most people aren't like that. I hope Chris will remember that."

"Why? You planning on doing something that will make him forget?" Kyle stepped forward, regarding the two guards steadily.

"No!" Greg held up his hands in protest, flushing under the whitelighter's scrutiny. Tugging at his collar uncomfortably, "No! I just – I was just talking, that's all."

"Look, you want to question Jeremiah or not?" Sheridan glared at the Resistance fighters impatiently. "I don't have all day."

"Yeah, yeah we do," DJ nodded, letting his gaze move towards the closed door. "Let's get this over with."

Sweeping her hand towards the door, Sheridan mock bowed, "After you, gentlemen."

* * *

The loud bang was quickly followed by the emergence of a greyish cloud and a distinctly odourous smell.

_POOF!_

"Bloody hell!" Paige coughed, waving her hands around frantically trying to dissipate the toxic fumes in the room. "Okay, definitely too much moordock root that time."

"Damn it! I was sure we got it that time," Phoebe wrinkled her nose in disgust as the waft of burnt witches' brew teased her nostrils. "Man, this stuff stinks!"

"That's the tenth time that's happened," Paige sighed, checking the figures on a nearby piece of paper. "I think we can safely assume that this concoction will NOT heal Chris."

"Are you sure? I mean, maybe we can cut back on the bat wing or something," Phoebe peered over Paige's shoulder at their notes.

"Yes, I'm sure," Paige sounded exasperated. "We've tried just about every combination. Nothing works, Phoebe. It just doesn't add up."

"All right," Phoebe pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine, let's try working on that spell again. Maybe we'll have better luck with that."

"You mean like the last fifteen versions?" Paige replied sceptically, her stomach growling slightly making her wonder when the last time she had eaten. They'd been at it ever since they'd split up from Leo and Piper. She chewed on the end of her pencil, "Phoebe – maybe we should just face facts. We're no closer to finding a cure to Chris' illness than we were 24 hours ago."

"Do you want to be the one to tell Piper that?" Phoebe pointed out. As Paige blanched, Phoebe continued, "Right. Let's try this again."

"Hey guys."

Startled, Piper's voice caused both her sisters to jump. Taken aback, Phoebe began to babble as her older sister entered, "Piper! Hello! Hey! How…how are you? What's going on? Where've you been? You been standing there long?"

Narrowing her eyes at Phoebe's stream of nonsensical words, Piper asked suspiciously, "How are things going?"

Trading a quick glance with Paige, Phoebe laughed awkwardly, "Oh, you know – writer's block. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find a word that rhymes with disease."

"How about the potion? Is that going any better?" Piper asked Paige, still eyeing Phoebe warily. Entering fully into the room, Piper craned her neck to look at the scribbles on Paige's notepad. "Wow. That's a lot of potion recipes you've got there."

Swallowing nervously, Paige replied slowly, "Yeah. We, uh, haven't really had much success with the potions…" Seeing Piper's expression, Paige quickly tacked on, "Yet."

"You're not giving up are you?"

"Giving up? No, no. Of course not. What would make you say that?" Paige's breath came out in a rush.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because that's what you were saying before I entered the room," Piper glared at both her sisters.

Sighing, Phoebe tried to explain. "Look, Piper. We're doing the best we can. You just got to hang in there okay? We're working on it."

"Good, because you've got a nephew who's counting on you."

"Look, if…if things don't go as planned," Phoebe rushed to continue her sentence as Piper glared daggers at her, "not that I'm saying it won't – at least we know when we get back to our time to get rid of that damn sword for real this time. That should solve everything, right Piper?"

About to reply, Piper paused as she felt the hair on her neck rise. With almost an inherent sixth sense, she turned around slowly to face her son who was staring at her in shock.

He was standing the doorway with Leo right behind him. Chris' face was paper white as he whispered in disbelief, "You didn't get rid of it?"

Stunned to realize that Chris had overheard Phoebe, Piper stuttered, "Chris…how…how long have you been standing there?"

"How could you?" His voice was sharp. "How could you _not_ after I specifically asked you to?"

At the time, she had been sure she was doing the right thing to ensure her son's destiny. But now…Piper shook her head, feeling thoroughly ashamed and unable to speak as she heard the accusation in her son's tone.

"After everything you've seen, after everything you've experienced here," Chris gestured with a sweeping motion. "How could you even make that sort of decision?"

"I just…I thought…I just wanted to do what I thought was right. Right for you," Piper tried to explain. "You have a destiny, Chris. I didn't want to deny you that…"

"It's not about me!" Chris suddenly drew himself up, fury darkening his face. His eyes were shadowed as he recalled similar words spoken to him, "It's not about me…or you…or even Wyatt." His voice dropped to a whisper, echoing the same haunting words he'd been told, "It's about everyone else."

Leo, who had been standing quietly behind his son chose to interrupt, alarmed at Chris' anger seemingly solely directed at Piper, "Hey. Your mom and I – we made a mistake. Okay?"

"We can fix this. _I_ can still fix this," Piper looked at her son beseechingly, her heart torn as she realized how disappointed and angry Chris was with her. "Chris – I know what I did was wrong. But baby, you got to believe me, I swear to you – I'll fix this."

Chris gazed into his mother's eyes, hearing her plea. But how could he respond? He didn't want to hurt her, but _God_! To not get rid of that sword? What could she have possibly been thinking? He'd lost all of his family, most of his friends and she wanted him to forgive her? Like it was all some sort of small error that could be corrected, no harm no foul? All he could do was stare at her in sheer disbelief.

"Please…please don't be angry at me," Piper pleaded hopefully, her eyes shining bright with unshed tears. "It was a mistake – I know that now."

Chris closed his eyes briefly, "It's…it's not that simple, mom."

Feeling her heart pierce with every word, Piper begged, "Chris – please. I can't…I don't think I could bear it if you were angry with me. Baby – I'm so sorry."

He opened his eyes and staring into his mother's soft brown ones, he could feel the power of her regret. But he couldn't forgive her. Not yet…not when things were going straight to hell and it could have so easily been prevented.

But he couldn't stay mad at her either – she was his mother.

"Mom," He started, seeing the hope alight in her eyes. "I…" Unable to help himself, he turned away abruptly heading for the door, "Just – forget it. I can't deal with this right now. I don't have the time."

"Chris!" Piper's plea fell on deaf ears as her son quickly exited the room without a backwards glance. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Chris."

Stepping forward, Paige wrapped her arms around Piper in support, "I'm sure he'll forgive you. Just give him some time."

Tearfully, Piper glanced up at her sister, "He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," Paige rushed to reassure her sister. Searching blindly for the right thing to say to explain Chris' behaviour, "He's just…distracted. You know, by imminent death."

"That's no excuse," Piper wiped at her eyes. "Not in this family."

"He's scared", Phoebe said, her voice full of amazement. She had been silent during the mother and son exchange, feeling overwhelmed by the emotion in the room. With Chris gone and his whirlwind of emotions with him too, she began to pick apart what had just happened.

"He didn't sound scared to me," Paige pointed out dryly. "If anything, he sounded downright ornery."

"Haven't you ever hid your fear with anger before?" Phoebe looked at her sister. "Paige, he's facing his own mortality. He's terrified. Terrified of dying. Terrified of failing," Phoebe shook her head, trying to sort out what she had felt from her nephew. "Terrified that everything will come to naught. Us not getting rid of the sword was just the last straw that broke the camel's back."

"So why doesn't he just _say_ something?" Paige pointed out irritably.

"What is he supposed to say, Paige? I'm scared that I'm going to die in pain? That I'm going to suffer? That I'm going to die alone and it will hurt like hell? That I have absolutely no control over any of it?" Phoebe retorted quickly.

"Stop it!" Piper burst out, tearfully. She couldn't bear to hear her sisters discuss Chris' fate so callously. "Just – stop it! Please!"

"I'm sorry," Phoebe said shamefully.

"No, don't be," Leo came forward. "We needed to hear that…_I_ needed to. Sometimes I forget…He's just so…self-contained. He projects such a strong façade – sometimes, I forgot he's so young…" Rubbing his eyes wearily for a minute, Leo looked at Phoebe, "You said he's also terrified of failing? What do you mean? Failing what?"

Phoebe shook her head as she comforted her sister, wrapping her arms around Piper as she answered Leo, "Failing to save everyone, I think."

"That's because he's well aware of the consequences if he fails," Darryl's voice interrupted. The quartet turned to find Darryl in the doorway, his eyes studying them gravely. "Sorry, I was passing by and couldn't help but overhear. I assume we're talking about Chris?"

At Paige's nod, Darryl continued, "Chris knows that if we don't stop this collision course with the valkyries and the mortals we could very well find ourselves in another war. He knows stopping Wyatt wasn't enough – he's got to somehow bring the world back to where it was before the war."

"He's not responsible for saving the world," Piper protested. "No one person can handle that kind of responsibility. No one should have to."

Darryl shrugged, his eyes weary, "Maybe not – but somebody has to do it and right now, that somebody is Chris."

Piper shook her head, her heart aching for her son, "But why? Why Chris?"

"Because of who and what he is – the son of a Charmed One," Darryl explained patiently.

"That's not fair – I don't want my children to grow up with that kind of burden hanging over their heads," Piper protested, her head swirling with the knowledge that because of her heritage, her sons would always bear the weight of responsibilities others would never experience.

Darryl just shook his head, unable to provide Piper with what she wanted to hear, "He didn't. He just grew up."

"It's not fair," Piper said, her voice trembling with emotion, glancing over at her husband who was regarding Darryl solemnly.

"Was it fair that Wyatt grew up and terrorized the world? Was it fair that the burden of stopping his own brother fell to Chris? Was it fair that a young man barely out of his teens had to shoulder the responsibility for not just his own, but thousands of lives?" Darryl shot back easily. His steady gaze made Piper feel about three inches tall. "Chris would be the first one to tell you life isn't fair."

Her voice was accusatory, "You're telling me I have to let go."

"I'm telling you – Chris has a job to do and he knows it," Darryl nodded at the girls as he left the room. "Maybe it's time you do yours."

* * *

Zach grimaced as the small truck hit a particularly nasty pothole, causing him to bump his head hard against the side of the cab, jolting him awake.

Duncan shot a look at his friend as Zach let loose a string of curses, "You okay?"

Rubbing his head tenderly, Zach waved off his friend's concern, "Yeah, yeah. Just keep your eyes on the road, okay?"

The two lapsed into silence and Zach turned away to return to his gazing out the window. They were on the outskirts of San Francisco – Oakland to be exact. One of the hardest hit areas during the war, it had been deemed too 'hot' with magical energies for repopulation. Chris had dispatched a Resistance team of scouts, mostly made up of witches, to the local area months ago to try and clean up the negative magical energies in the hopes of making it liveable once again. Zach and Duncan, with Eddie, were on their way to the sweeper team with much needed basic supplies. Tents, blankets, dry and packaged food were neatly packed away in the boxes, stacked and secured against the sides of the truck right next to boxes of potions.

As the truck made its way slowly along the dirt road, Zach shaded his eyes, seeing something in the distance. Apprehension knotting his stomach, he turned around to rap on the back of the cab.

The small window that opened to the back of the U-Haul slid wide as Eddie's face appeared in the opening. He was riding in the back with the supplies because the truck cab only had room for two people. "Yeah?"

"Something may be up," Zach's eyes darted back to the front. "Keep on your toes."

"Right," Eddie said, unnecessarily, shutting the window closed once again. The whole team had been on edge. The last supply truck the Resistance had sent out had been stopped and thoroughly looted by unruly locals. And while no one had been hurt that time, the tension had been palpable. The Resistance had narrowly avoided becoming injured themselves, escaping by the skin of their teeth.

Zach, who had been making the runs for months now, had been concerned about the recent escalation in violence. He'd voiced his concerns to Duncan, who could only shrug and repeat Chris' orders to not engage. He'd been livid as hell and given Duncan a piece of his mind. As a compromise, Duncan had volunteered to come on the next supply run so that he could see the situation for himself and hopefully, report back to Chris that passiveness was becoming more dangerous. Hence, the ride-along.

"You think there could be trouble ahead?" Duncan asked, his entire focus on the road ahead as they came upon a pile of debris in the middle of the road. He shifted down a gear, carefully steering around the general debris, braking lightly.

"I'm not sure but I –,"

"Hold!"

A man suddenly jumped out onto the road in front of the truck's path. Swearing, Duncan jammed his foot down hard on the break, swerving to narrowly avoid the idiot. Luckily, because he had already been in the process of slowing down, Duncan was able to bring the truck to a rolling stop without mishap, "What the hell!"

Before Zach could respond, the door on his right was yanked open. A hard, mean-looking man stared up belligerently at him, holding a pitchfork against Zach's chest as he threatened, "You make one funny move…"

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Zach was alarmed to see another fifteen people emerge, surrounding the truck with various pitchforks and sticks, "Hey, man. Just take it easy. We're just on our way through…"

"I know where you're going," the man sneered, before reaching out and grabbing Zach by the collar. Yanking the Resistance scout down, the man pushed Zach towards his cronies. "Hold him."

"Look, I don't know what's going on," Duncan started, his arms held by a pair of hulking brutes, eyeing the crossbow trained on him nervously. He threw a concerned glance in Zach's direction, "We're just minding our own business…"

"You have supplies. We need supplies." The dark eyed man said simply.

"Those supplies are destined for a team about 20 miles from here who are cleaning up the area from negative magical energies," Duncan protested. "They need those supplies if they're going to be able to keep doing their jobs."

"We appreciate that, but I've got hungry mouths to feed. My wife and kids – they haven't had anything decent to eat in days," The man on Zach's left said sympathetically. Zach simply sighed as he poked Zach gently with his stick, "Nobody makes a move and nobody gets hurt, okay?"

Duncan tried to argue with their captors, "Hey! The team these supplies are for are doing YOU a service. They're going into a hot zone to clean it up so humans can move back into the area. How can you take those supplies away from them?"

The leader of the group of scruffy men ignored him, instead motioning to his followers to circle around to the back of the truck. Gesturing silently, the man indicated for his friends to get into position.

Clearly they had known about the supplies run and had been laying in wait for the unsuspecting Resistance fighters. Quickly evaluating the situation, Zach focused hard, sending his telepathetic thoughts out:_Eddie! They've got you surrounded – get ready:_

_:How many?...:_

Zach could hear the tension in Eddie's mind voice. _:Sixteen. But four of them are watching Duncan and me.:_ He looped Duncan into the conversation, _:Eddie – you make your way to the front and get us the hell out of here, okay? All right – on the count of three…:_

The mortals readied themselves, their eagerness for the supplies revealing itself as they moved forward carelessly.

_:One…:_

Zach continued to count, keeping his eyes carefully averted from Duncan's and the truck as he tried to freeze-frame the surroundings into his mind's eye.

_:Two…:_

The leader reached up, his hand trembling slightly as he tightened his grip on the silver door handle.

_:Three!...:_

Before the men could open the doors, they abruptly swung outwards with a metallic bang as they crashed forcibly against the sides of the truck. Taken by surprise, the mortals jumped back as Eddie sprang forward, whipping a glass bottle on the ground. As the glass broke and released the potion, a cloud of smoke engulfed the general vicinity, giving the Resistance scouts much needed cover.

Taking advantage of the momentary surprise, Zach quickly elbowed the guard to his left with a sharp jab to the ribs. Dropping down, he kicked out with his left leg, knocking his other captor to the ground. Swiftly, he rolled away, trying not to cough from the smoke and give away his position. _:Duncan? Where the hell are you?...:_

_:Right beside you:_ Duncan replied, as he touched Zach's arm in confirmation. _:What about Eddie?...:_

_:Where he should be, I hope…:_ Zach pulled Duncan along behind him. _:Come on, we don't have much time.:_ Making his way blindly towards the truck, luck was with them as Zach stumbled into the back without encountering any hostiles. As he banged his knee hard against the metallic side door, he cursed silently as the distinctive sound alerted their captors to their pending escape.

"Stop them!"

Grabbing at Duncan, Zach pushed his friend up into the back of the truck. As Duncan leaned over to forcibly drag Zach into the trailer as well, Zach prayed Eddie had made it to the truck cab, _:Go! Go! Go!...:_

Shouts, yells and assorted scuffling noises sounded as the mortals quickly realized their quarry was about to escape.

The truck suddenly shot forward as Eddie slammed his foot on the gas. Duncan tumbled backwards at the sudden lurch, his grip on Zach coming loose. For a moment, Zach seemed to hang precariously in the air, about to tumble either way equally before fate intervened and something tipped Zach's balance, causing him to fall forward.

The tires squealed as the truck tore down the road, leaving behind a cloud of dust and the frustrated yells of the enraged looters. "You okay back there?" Eddie yelled through the rear window as he drove like a bat out of hell.

"Yeah, I think so," Duncan said unsteadily, as he got to his feet. Already the would be robbers were small specks on the horizon. Falling against the side of the truck as Eddie took another sharp corner, he yelled over his shoulder, "I think you can stop – I think we're out of danger now…"

As Eddie began to ease up on the gas, bringing the truck to a gentle stop, Duncan glanced over at his friend, "Zach?"

Eddie threw the truck into park, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. That had been too close a call. "You guys okay?"

"Zach?" Duncan whispered, frozen in place.

Eddie glanced through the window, the small cut out allowing him to only see Duncan who was currently looking down, an expression of pure horror on his face. "Duncan? Where's Zach?" As Duncan ignored him, Eddie leapt out of the driver's seat, rushing around to the back to where his friends were, sensing something was terribly wrong. Clambering into the back, he came to an abrupt halt behind Duncan as he finally caught a glimpse of the sight that had greeted Duncan.

Zach was lying facedown, an arrow buried deep into his back, his eyes open and his face frozen in surprise.

"Jesus…" Eddie whispered and not knowing what else to do, he closed his eyes against the horrific image.

That soft curse seemed to snap Duncan out of his trance and sinking to his knees next to Zach, he pulled Zach's head towards him. Shaking his friend slightly, Duncan said hoarsely, "Zach?" Duncan shook him harder, "Christ, Zach. Don't do this. Zach! Zach!"

No response.

"Shit!" Duncan was cradling his friend's head now, "Zach! Zach! Open your goddamned eyes, you son of a bitch! Zach!" Even as he spoke the words, he knew it was useless – Zach was gone. "Get a whitelighter! Now! Fuck! Oh Christ…Zach!" Tears streaming down his face now, Duncan looked helplessly at Eddie in shared pain, before covering his face with his blood stained hands.

_Zach... _

To be continued….


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: Bjoernar Haakensmoen and Norway – we owe you one!

Sorry for the delay – sometimes the words cometh and sometimes they don't.

Re: Zach in the previous chapter – I think Zach first made his appearance in the season 6 episode, The Legend of Sleepy Halliwell. I introduced him into the 'No Fate' universe in _No Fate_ (chapter 11) and the character popped up again in _Providence_ (chapter 6).

_And on a more personal level…_

Thanks so much to everyone who has been interested in this story and takes the time to leave me feedback: keisha, Charmed Ravenclaw, Sensue, chattypandagurl, Icantthinkofaname, Sparkling Cherries, charmedtomeetyou, Zeria – you all force me back to the computer even when I've sworn off it.

**

* * *

The End of All Things **

**Chapter 13**

* * *

The room, at most eight by eight, was fitted with a table and couple of chairs. The unreliable electricity caused the lights to flicker incessantly, emanating a low humming to add to the white noise. 

DJ and Michael casually took a seat while Kyle moved to lean against the wall in the far corner. Similar to an interrogation room in their former police headquarters, DJ noted dryly that the only thing missing to complete the replica was the standard two way mirror. He quirked an eyebrow at his brother who smiled back grimly, the two correctly reading the other's expression and interpreting what the other was thinking as only brothers could do.

"Get your hands off me, you stinking traitors!"

Scuffling noises were heard outside before the door was opened abruptly to reveal Dan and Greg half dragging, half carrying the prisoner. On either side of the struggling man, Dan and Greg roughly manhandled their captive into the empty seat across from the two brothers. Grimacing as a particular foul curse greeted his ears, DJ nodded imperceptibly to his two friends, indicating he would take over. The two guards hastily removed themselves from the room, grateful to let someone else deal with the agitated inmate, even if only for a little while.

Jeremiah eyed the three Resistance followers warily as he spat, "What the fuck do you want?"

DJ looked him in the eye, "How's the leg?"

Though seated, it was clear from his expression that Jeremiah was obviously still experiencing pain; slowly he repositioned his broken leg, dragging it closer towards him before asking sourly, "What's it to you?"

Michael shrugged, "Kyle here is a whitelighter. He could fix that right up for you."

Shooting a look of hatred in the direction of the whitelighter, Jeremiah retorted, "You tell that cockroach to stay away from me, you hear?"

Exchanging a covert glance with his brother, D.J. proceeded to lean forward, "Let's just cut to the chase, Jeremiah. We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Me, I prefer the easy way but my brother here has always been partial to the hard way. You tell us what we want to know and I'll keep him _and_ the whitelighter away from you."

"You think I'm scared of you fuckers?" Jeremiah spat in D.J.'s face. "What do you think about that?"

Slowly, D.J. wiped the spittle from his face, saying menacingly, "You are going to tell me everything you know about Zankou. Right now."

"Screw you," Jeremiah drawled insolently, not impressed by one iota of D.J.'s good cop/bad cop routine.

Nodding at his brother, Michael came around the table and shooting out with his arm, he quickly put Jeremiah into an uncomfortable headlock. The chair legs squealed against the concrete floor as Jeremiah kicked pathetically in protest, sending the chair across the floor barely a few feet. Tightening his grip ruthlessly, Michael watched dispassionately as the prisoner's face began to turn an alarming shade of purple and his hands clawed desperately at Michael's hold. At D.J.'s signal, Michael abruptly released his chokehold.

Jeremiah gasped and coughed, tears streaming from his eyes as he sucked in much needed air, collapsing back into his seat. His face full of fury, he looked up at D.J.'s threatening face before yelling hoarsely, "Fuck you!"

D.J. sighed before signalling his brother. Again, Michael encircled Jeremiah's neck with a rough chokehold, unmoved by the prisoner's feeble attempts to wrest his way free.

Uncomfortable with the way the line of questioning was heading, Kyle pushed himself away from the wall and moved towards D.J. Careful to keep his back to the sight of Michael choking the life out of Jeremiah, he leaned in, whispering in D.J.'s ear, "Is this really necessary?"

"Of course," D.J. replied evenly, his eyes never leaving Jeremiah's. "We don't have time to do this nicely, you know that."

Sneaking a quick glance at the victim's ruddy face as he choked for breath, Kyle abruptly turned away. He headed back to his corner, keeping his eyes carefully averted.

"So what's it going to be, Jeremiah?" D.J. stood up, leaning forward on his hands to stare down into the prisoner's eyes. "You going to talk?"

His eyes wild, Jeremiah tried to speak, unable to emit anything more than a squawk as Michael's stranglehold tightened.

D.J. eyed Jeremiah dispassionately, "I can't hear you."

His eyes bulging, Jeremiah nodded vigorously (or as much as Michael's hold would allow him). Abruptly, Michael released his grip and Jeremiah rubbed his throat, sucking in the air and wheezing as he tried to bring his breathing back to normal.

Calmly handing him a glass of water, D.J. watched as Jeremiah greedily gulped it down. Shooting his tormentor a sour look, he turned his attention back to D.J., saying hoarsely, "What do you want to know?"

"How exactly did you and Zankou first start your association?"

Jeremiah shrugged, "Asshole approached me. Said we could do great things together."

D.J. looked sceptical, "For someone who claims to hate magic, you were pretty fast to get on that bandwagon."

Jeremiah glared at D.J., still unconsciously rubbing his raw throat, "You think I'm an idiot? I told that piece of shit to go fuck himself." As D.J. continued to look at him sceptically, Jeremiah blurted defensively, "I did! At first."

"So what changed?" Kyle's voice from the corner interrupted.

"He could get me stuff I didn't have access to," Jeremiah studied his fingers. "Stuff I needed if we were ever going to take our city back."

"Back from who?" Michael interjected, genuinely puzzled.

"From all you traitors!' Jeremiah suddenly shouted, almost rising out of his seat. Only his broken leg kept him from standing upright. "You think I don't know about you? You and your kind – sympathetic to these fuckers." He pointed an accusatory finger at Kyle. "It's these bastards who are slowly taking over our cities and our lives. One day you're going to wake up and they'll be in charge of everything!"

D.J. swore, "Jesus Christ."

"Yeah! So when Zankou offered me the goods, I took it. So what? You think I care about that asshole? That I'm working with him? Once we drove you bastards out, I would have popped him too," Jeremiah continued to rant, almost frothing at the mouth in rage.

"You're an idiot," Michael retorted, still stunned with disbelief at the rationalizations and justifications the man was spouting.

"Fuck you, traitor," Jeremiah spat back. "You're as big an asshole as they are. Maybe even bigger because you can't see past their actions to their agenda. You're just a poor sap taken in by their lies."

Kyle shook his head as he murmured softly, "Unbelievable."

Slamming his hand down in frustration, D.J. brought the conversation back to the topic at hand, "Tell me how you'd meet up with Zankou. How you arranged to speak with him."

Jeremiah looked sullenly around the room. As Michael made another threatening gesture at him, Jeremiah jerked backwards. He looked at D.J. sullenly, "Phinks. I set my meetings up with Phinks."

Trading significant glances with his brother, D.J. questioned, "How did you get in touch with Phinks?"

Jeremiah shrugged, "I'd go to the east gate, just outside the perimeter and wait for him. He shows up every week or so at the same time, same place. If I'm not there, he knows I'm busy and he'll check back the next week."

Kyle jerked his head in the direction of the door, stepping outside as his two companions quickly joined him. "Well, what's your read?"

D.J. shrugged, "I think he's telling the truth- the dilated pupils, the slight sweating. All signs that he's nervous which would support the theory he's trying to hide something."

Michael nodded, "I agree. I'm getting the same vibes off of him." He glanced down at his wristwatch. "We don't have that much time left. It's going to be awhile before we can break him."

DJ agreed, "Michael's right. Kyle – go back to base and tell Chris what we've gotten so far. Then orb your ass back here."

Kyle nodded, "You two sure you'll be okay by yourselves?"

The two brothers glanced at each other before Michael answered, "We'll be fine. Just hurry back, okay?"

Casting one final look towards room holding the detainee, Kyle nodded at the two brothers one last time. "All right – I'll be back in a bit. Just…watch yourselves."

* * *

As was his habit, Chris retreated to the one place where he knew he could be alone. 

_So what am I suppose to do now? _The bombshell his parents had dropped had thrown him for a loop. _Christ – I don't know if I'm angry that they didn't get rid of the blasted thing or relieved to know that the future can still be saved…_

"I knew I'd find you here," Darryl's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Chris looked over his shoulder to see Darryl looking at him sympathetically. With a wave of his hand, Chris invited Darryl to take a seat and scooted down the well-worn park bench to make room. Located outside the perimeter of the base, Chris and Bianca's spot was still a desolate, deserted park – the perfect place when one wanted to be alone.

Absently brushing off the withered leaves from his potential seat, Darryl sighed as he sank down, stretching his joints. Clasping his hands behind his head, he leaned back, taking in the sunset. He glanced over at Chris without turning his head, catching the young witch-whitelighter chewing on a piece of grass in his peripheral vision. "You okay?"

His elbows resting on his knees as he gazed out at the landscape, Chris chewed thoughtfully, "I don't know."

"I saw your parents earlier," Darryl continued, his tone deliberately casual. "They seemed upset."

Chris shrugged silently, his focus still on studying the contrasting colours of the sky as the brilliant purples and pinks of the evening light chased away the orange of the setting sun.

Darryl mentally sighed – it was clear to him that Chris was not in the mood to talk. Offering the advice anyways, Darryl hedged, "Your parents…they're good people, Chris. You know that. That's why you've been fighting so hard to save them…to save Wyatt. Whatever it is they've done or you think they've done – just remember, they're not perfect."

Spitting out the long piece of grass, Chris replied tonelessly, "They didn't destroy Excalibur."

Momentarily shocked, Darryl quickly swallowed as he roused himself from his surprise, "They…they what?"

Chris broke off his gazing and turned to face Darryl, his facial features carefully schooled not to betray his inner thoughts, "I said – they didn't destroy Excalibur."

Darryl's response was woefully inadequate, "Oh."

Chris snorted lightly, "Oh, indeed."

"Maybe…maybe they had a good reason for that?" Darryl asked hopefully.

"More likely not," Chris replied sardonically. Bitterness crept into his voice, "All this time…I've been working under the assumption that they had gotten rid of it. That they knew how important it was to me…to us…" Chris shook his head, "I can't believe this."

Recovering from his shock, Darryl managed to focus his thoughts as he carefully analyzed the situation, "They can still go back and fix this."

Chris said simply, "Yep."

Though Chris didn't give any outward indication, Darryl knew the young man was upset. Reaching out to pat Chris awkwardly on the knee, Darryl imparted some advice gleamed from his years of experience, "Don't be mad at them, Chris. They obviously had a reason and no matter how misguided it may seem to us – it made sense to them." He paused as he waited for some response from his friend who merely shrugged. Darryl continued, "They're young, Chris. Only a few years older than you right now. Okay, well, maybe not Leo. But they're bound to make mistakes. Like I said, they're not perfect. They're your parents."

Chris shot Darryl an unreadable look, "I know that. Believe me, I found out pretty quickly in the past just how 'not perfect' they really are. It's just…"

"Yes?" Darryl prompted.

"I guess…as a kid growing up, I thought Mom could do no wrong. Or my aunts. I honestly thought they were…I guess for lack of a better word – perfect. And I know that my memories are obviously not accurate in that way but at the same time…they were my heroes," Chris said softly as he reflected on his past. "And now, relating to them as an adult – it's completely weird. It's like, all these things I never knew about them are coming to light and casting a completely different view of them than my memories. Like they aren't the heroes I remembered them to be…and maybe they never were."

"Chris – take it from someone who's known your family for a very, very long time," Darryl smiled gently. "They may not be perfect…" Darryl paused significantly to let his words sink in, "but they are definitely heroes."

Chris nodded slowly. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the bench to look up at the sky. As the evening was creeping forward, twinkling stars could be seen up above. _Another day gone…_, he thought. "What do I do now?"

"We stick to the plan," Darryl answered, gathering his coat around him more securely as the temperature began to drop as the sun disappeared from the purpling sky. "Think you can do that?"

Chris shivered as the air turned brisk, asking rhetorically, "Don't really have a choice, do I?"

"Not at all," Darryl agreed affably, effectively lightening the moment.

"Haha," Chris responded sourly. Giving the darkening sky one last gaze, Chris tugged on the sleeves of his jacket in an useless effort to cover his exposed hands, "We'd better get inside before it gets even colder."

Standing, Darryl offered the young man a hand up, the irony of the senior citizen assisting a young man supposedly in the prime of his life not lost on him. He said nothing as Chris gratefully grasped Darryl's hand and watched as the young man pulled himself up slowly, getting unsteadily to his feet.

"Lilah or Ben give you a timeframe?" Darryl asked, his voice catching slightly with emotion before he was able to smooth it over.

"No," Chris began to walk slowly over to the tunnel to head back to base. "But I'm hoping at least until this crisis is over."

"That…that quick?" Darryl stumbled over the question, mentally taken aback. Oh – he knew Chris was dying…but still. He had thought they had months left. Weeks, even. Not days…never days…

His shoulders slightly hunched and his back still to his friend, Chris' voice was surprisingly clear, "Darryl. We have to fix this before…before I can't." A pause and then, softly, "I don't…I don't want to leave unfinished business…" Chris turned slightly so Darryl could see his profile, "Or any more unfinished than it already is."

It was unspoken between them but Darryl had come to know his young friend as well as his own sons. Swallowing his tears, Darryl gave Chris the promise the young man so desperately needed to hear, "I swear – we'll finish this together."

Nodding, Chris waited for his friend to catch up and silently, the pair slowly headed back to base.

* * *

_Chris has a job to do and he knows it. Maybe it's time you do yours_. 

Though she knew Darryl had been right, the harsh words still stung deeply. It would be easy to disregard everything she knew was true and focus her efforts on saving her son. As she had stated numerous times nothing…_nothing_ was more important than family.

And yet, in her heart of hearts, she had to admit…maybe…just maybe…that was no longer true.

As clichéd as it was, this was her fork in the road, her time to decide which path to follow – could she really choose her responsibilities over her family? Did some things simply transcend the individual? Was it right to set aside Chris' needs simply for the greater good?

Piper shivered unconsciously,_ Who would have thought that I would EVER use _those_ words?_

She struggled with her conscience; part of her despairing that in refocusing their efforts, she would be forsaking all hope for a cure to Chris' magical illness. The other part of her (the non 'mom' part of her) knew it was the right thing to do. Chris needed them to focus on Zankou and frankly, so did the rest of the world. That part of her was still more than a little in awe of her son's ability to ruthlessly push aside anything that wasn't directed towards those efforts. _How does he do it?_ Piper wondered sadly. _How does he have the strength to make these sacrifices all in the mere hope of a better world while I can barely think past what will happen to him?_

And that was the reason Darryl's words had bit so sharply – they had been right on target. Chris continued to make the hard decisions, to put aside his own needs and wants in favour of the bigger picture because it was the right thing to do. And she, his mother, who supposedly would impart all her values and morals on him during his formative years, could barely see beyond her own need to protect her child. Until Darryl had pointed it out that she, a Charmed One, had a job to do, she had simply ignored her responsibilities and obligations as such. And she was deeply ashamed – after all, her son knew and accepted his destiny with nary a complaint while she continued to flounder and flop through hers.

"…spell should work," Paige was saying. "What do you think, Piper?"

Blinking, Piper shook herself as her sister's words brought her back to earth. "I'm sorry?"

Stepping forward, Leo wrapped his arms around her, obviously concerned. From the confused look on his wife's face, he assumed she was thinking of the abrupt exchange with Chris, "Piper? He just needs some time to digest but he'll come around. I promise."

Grateful for that small comfort, Piper nodded, "I know. I'm sorry for being so distracted. I should be more focused on helping you guys with this spell right now."

Phoebe impulsively reached out to squeeze Piper's arm, "It's okay. We know you have a lot on your mind." Reaching over to pluck the piece of paper out of Paige's hand, Phoebe handed the spell over to Piper, "We were just saying that Leo had it right. Or as right as we can remember it. You want to take a look?"

Nodding her thanks, Piper took a quick scan, her eyes flitting across the page, "That's what I remember too. So I guess this is it. This is going to need the Power of Three, you know," she looked over at her sisters as they agreed.

"Well then, it's a good thing we came to visit then," Paige smiled cheekily.

"Somehow, I don't think Chris will see it that way," Leo responded dryly as Phoebe rolled her eyes in response.

"So what now?" Piper asked, looking at her husband.

He shrugged, "I think we should take it to Chris. He wanted me to confirm with you guys that this is the right spell. I'm guessing he'll want to bring us all up to speed on the plan."

Piper nodded, "All right. Let's go find him."

Paige frowned, "If you guys don't mind, I'm going to stay here and see if I can write a better spell. I mean, obviously it didn't work that well since Zankou is still around."

"No, that's a good idea," Phoebe agreed, her brow furrowed as she frowned. "I'll give you a hand while the two parents track down their youngest."

* * *

Duncan rubbed his eyes wearily with his fist as he waited for Darryl's response. Upon returning from the aborted supply run, Duncan had immediately sought out Darryl to debrief him on the latest developments...including Zach's untimely death. 

Darryl looked up from the report, his eyes sad, "I'm sorry to hear about Zach."

"Yeah," Duncan cleared his throat unnaturally. His mouth felt like it was full of sawdust, "I'm sorry as hell, too."

"Look Duncan, I'm not going to beat around the bush. We don't have time for that. I know you're hurting…we all are," Darryl started, his mind already focused on the next task.

"How the hell would you know how I feel? You weren't there," Duncan's voice cut harshly. Zach hadn't even been buried yet and Darryl was already moving forward, forgetting their friend and his sacrifice. Anger at the unfairness of it all made Duncan lash out at his friend, "He didn't bleed all over you….he didn't die in right in front of you."

"No, but regardless we've got bigger issues to deal with right now," Darryl replied coldly.

"Fuck that. You think I give a shit right now?" Duncan shot back bitterly, his mind still fresh with images of Zach's prone body bleeding all over the floor of the truck. He made a rude gesture before spinning on his heel, intent on leaving the small room, "Find someone else to do it – I could give a fuck."

"There IS no one else." Darryl quickly moved to block Duncan from exiting, stretching his arm across the doorway to effectively bar Duncan's path. "We need someone with your powers to do this mission and right now, you're at the top of the list."

Duncan closed his eyes. _It never ends…_"What do you want me to do?" his voice was resigned.

Darryl hit Duncan square in the chest with a bunch of papers, "It's all in the mission profile – you'll be backing up Chris."

Duncan's eyebrow rose, surprised. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been this. "Chris? Is he even well enough to do anything?" Thumbing quickly through the pages to get a general gist, Duncan swore, "This is suicide. Does he really think he can pull this off?"

"With your help," Darryl nodded. Placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder, Darryl revealed, "Duncan – Chris wanted me to be clear – ultimately it's your choice. He's well aware of how much he's asking of you. He wants you to know – he'll understand if you don't want to do this. Ben said he's willing to step up."

"Ben?" Duncan scoffed, well aware that their professor of magic hadn't seen the front lines during their recent conflict. "Besides our chances are significantly better with me in the driving seat," Duncan observed shrewdly as he assessed the magical requirements of the mission.

Darryl shrugged, allowing Duncan to draw his own conclusions.

Duncan felt his stomach drop in fear – the mission profile was risky, at best. And even if they succeeded, the chances of one of them, let alone both, making it out alive were…well, miniscule, to put it mildly.

He pulled away from Darryl to pace the room. Oh, it wasn't that he hadn't faced death before. But it was one thing to carry out duties and know the risk of death was there…but it was a whole other ballgame when you courted it. The fact of the matter was Duncan wasn't sure he wanted to risk his life anymore. It was funny, a mere eight hours earlier and he would have laid down his life, no question. But Zach was dead. Killed by the very people Chris wanted to risk their necks for now. Frankly, Duncan didn't owe them a damn thing.

_But I owe it to Chris, _Duncan thought unhappily. Hell, he owed it to each and every friend that he had lost over the years – Sheila, Quentin, Kate, Elise, Les…even Zach. They had all laid their lives on the line for something bigger than themselves, died for something and maybe…just maybe…he owed it to them to finish it.

Duncan thought of all the times Chris had put his own life on the line…that he _still_ put on the line. _Can I do any less?_, he wondered. He'd always admired his friend – Chris had never asked anyone to do something he himself wouldn't do.

Including self-sacrifice.

He turned to face Darryl, ready to make his decision. The older man was watching him carefully and to Duncan's surprise he could tell Darryl was nervous. Darryl's shoulders were rigid, his expression carefully blank. It was obvious he was ready to accept Duncan's refusal.

Duncan's voice was gruff, "What time do I have to be ready to leave?"

Darryl's stance visibly relaxed as the knowledge of Duncan's acceptance helped to alleviate some of the pressure he had been under. "You leave at 0500 hours." Darryl glanced down at his wristwatch, "That leaves you about 4 hours to get your affairs in order and maybe catch a quick nap."

"Fine," Duncan tucked the mission profile into his back pocket. He'd review it back at his quarters after catching some shut eye. "Anything else?"

Darryl hesitated before reluctantly saying, "I don't want Chris to know about Zach yet – I don't want him to be distracted. Can you keep it to yourself for awhile longer?"

Duncan nodded slowly as he responded dully, "Fine." Pulling himself together, he nodded curtly at Darryl one last time and took his leave.

"And Duncan?"

He paused, his hand on the doorknob as he turned back to look at Darryl. "Yeah?"

Darryl's eyes were shadowed, his voice slightly hoarse, "Good luck."

* * *

They emerged from the holding cell only to be confronted by a fairly impatient looking Sheridan. Her eyebrow rose at the sight of the two men, "Where's the whitelighter?" 

"Kyle?" D.J. shrugged. "We sent him back to base with some information we've gleaned so far. Why?"

She shrugged, "No reason. So learn anything?"

Michael exchanged a glance with D.J., "Jeremiah was working with demons."

Her shoulders slumping, Sheridan sighed, "I was afraid it was something like that. Christ." She rubbed her forehead wearily, "So what's the next step?"

D.J. shook his head, "I'm not sure. I mean, we've still got to prove Zankou is the mastermind behind the valkyrie's killing. It's one thing to know Jeremiah was working with him…it's a whole other thing to connect the dots all the way back to Kate's murder."

"All right," Sheridan crossed her arms. "I'll leave it to Chris to handle the situation. However, what I'd like to know is when you were planning on letting me know that the Charmed Ones are back."

"Oh, good God," Michael rolled his eyes. "Do we even need to get into this?"

"Considering they have the power to fix things, yes," Sheridan shot back, glaring at the two brothers. "We're talking about three of the most powerful witches in history. I think, after everything this city has gone through, you owe us an explanation!"

"Look, all I know is they're from the past and they came to check on Chris' future," Michael shrugged. "That's all I know." As Sheridan continued to stare at him sceptically, Michael protested defensively, "I swear!"

"I guess," Sheridan said doubtfully. "People are going to talk, you know. I wasn't the only one who recognized them the other day. There are rumours swirling all over the city that the Charmed Ones will return everything back to the way it was."

"I wish it were that simple," Michael said glumly.

"Yeah, well, so do thousands of others," D.J. snapped. "But it's not their responsibility – it's yours and ours. And you can tell your city that."

Sheridan sighed, "Relax, D.J. I'm on it. You know as well as I that it's only a small percentage of the population that's resentful of magic. Most folks are decent."

"Yeah, but it's the non-decent, violent ones that I'm afraid of," D.J. retorted quickly, irritation clearly written on his face. "It makes my job that much harder."

"I said, I'm handling it," Sheridan glared at D.J., indignation underlying her tone.

"Whoa, everyone back to their corners," Michael interjected weakly, stepping between the two. "Let's just concentrate on the valkyrie threat right now and worry about the other stuff after, okay?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Well, I'm not fine, but that's besides the point," Michael muttered under his breath. Scratching his head, he looked over at Sheridan, "Anything else?"

She shook her head as Michael quirked his eyebrow in his brother's direction.

Glancing down at his watch, D.J. said wearily, "It's getting late. And we still need to check out that spot Jeremiah said he used to meet his demon contact for clues."

Michael frowned, "You think we'll be able to find anything in the dark?"

Sheridan pinched the bridge of her nose, "Look guys, it's only another couple of hours till the sun rises. Why don't you give it a rest, catch up on some sleep and I'll have someone wake you as soon as it starts to become light out. A couple of hours sleep isn't going to kill you, is it?"

D.J. snorted, "It might. We've got about one day left to stop the valkyries."

Sheridan unfolded her arms, "No one's more aware of that than I. But you can't do anything for the next few hours so stop arguing and follow me. I'll show you where you can rest."

As D.J. opened his mouth to argue, Michael cut him off, "She's right. We could use a couple of hours to recharge." Clapping his reluctant brother on the shoulder, "Come on, D.J. I swear, as soon as the sun starts to rise we'll head over to that site, okay?"

Agreeing, D.J. turned to follow the already departing Sheridan leaving Michael in his wake. Glancing one last glance at the locked door to the holding cell, Michael sighed and turned on his heel to catch up with his two friends.

* * *

"Darryl!" 

"Kyle!" Darryl blinked in surprise, not expecting to see the whitelighter so soon. "What are you doing here? Are D.J. and Michael back too?"

Kyle shook his head. "No. They sent me back to tell you Phinks is the missing link. Phinks was the one who was the go-between Zankou and Jeremiah."

Slowly Darryl nodded, absorbing the information. "I see."

"You'll let Chris know? I have to get back to the guys. I don't feel comfortable leaving them in San Fran on they're own," Kyle said anxiously, already beginning to orb out.

Darryl nodded, calling after his friend, "Go. I'll let Chris know."

* * *

_What if it doesn't work? What if I can't prove to the valkyries that Zankou is behind it all? What if I'm can't stop it?_

Dragging his hand down his face, Chris tried to push the negative thoughts aside. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he could feel his panic trying to seep through – pushing insistently through the cracks before he forcibly slammed the door shut on such thinking.

He drew in a deep breath, calming himself. If there was one thing he had learned during the war with Wyatt was that emotions were a hindrance rather than a strength – fear paralysed and panic distracted. At a certain point, you had to let go – you could plan and plot till you were blue in the face but one could never account for every single factor. _Well,_ e_ither it works out or it doesn't_, Chris thought rather dryly before snorting sarcastically to himself. _At least there's no pressure._

A knock on the door caused him to glance up. Seeing his parents in the doorway, Chris squashed the desire to grimace – he honestly didn't want to deal with them right now. But from the determined look on Piper's face, Chris knew that was wishful thinking on his part. He nodded at them, struggling to keep his voice carefully pitched and his face expressionless, "What's up?"

His parents exchanged glances, as if they were hesitant about answering before Leo cleared his throat rather noisily, "We..uh…wanted to talk to you."

Waving his hand to invite them in, Chris discreetly glanced at the clock on the wall. He still had time. Humouring them, he jerked his head in the direction of the table and chairs and invited, "Have a seat."

His mother smiled gratefully at him, pulling out the closest chair with Leo seating himself next to her. "How are you feeling?"

Chris shrugged, leaning against his dresser as he eyed his parents warily, "That's not what you're here to ask me, so let's just cut to the chase okay?"

Leo gave Chris a stern look, "Answer your mother."

Resisting the urge to revert to childish behaviour and stick his tongue out at them (what _was_ it about his parents that made him want to act like a three year old?), Chris sighed, massaging his neck as he contemplated the best way to answer the question. Settling on the partial truth, his tone was casual, "Not any worse than before."

"But not better, either," Piper's question was more a grim statement.

Chris said nothing, silently acknowledging the truth in Piper's words. Instead, he sneaked a peek at the clock, "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

His mother glanced back at Leo, who nodded encouragingly. Handing Chris a piece of paper, she nodded, "Phoebe, Paige and I looked over that spell to destroy Zankou. We think it will work – with the Power of Three backing it, it _should_ work."

"Good." Chris shook his head, declining to take the spell, "You hold on to it. After all, you said it needs the Power of Three. Giving it to me isn't necessary."

Leo's eyebrow quirked upwards, surprised, "Aren't you at least interested in reading it over?"

Turning his back on his parents, Chris casually walked over to his nearby dresser. Again, he discreetly looked at the time. Opening one of the drawers he muttered, "I trust you."

"That's a first," Piper remarked dryly, shooting her husband a puzzled look who responded with a confused shrug of his own.

Removing something from the open drawer, Chris glanced back over his shoulder at his parents, "You make me sound like a control freak."

Piper's mouth twitched slightly, "More like neurotic."

"Am I ever going to live that down?" Chris rolled his eyes in exasperation. Slamming his drawer shut, he began to prowl the room. He shot his mother an unreadable look, making her feel uncomfortable, before asking, "Is that it?"

"Have you come up with a plan yet?" Leo asked, referring to Chris' idea of luring Zankou and decidedly ignoring Chris' obvious prompts to leave the room.

Realizing his parents weren't going to leave him alone any time soon, Chris decided to change tactics. Stopping his pacing briefly to fiddle with something on one of his shelves, Chris' voice was muffled as his back was still to his parents, "Yeah. Phinks."

"Phinks?" Piper asked in confusion. "Your demon informant?"

"The very one," Chris replied absently, moving around the table so that Piper and Leo had to crane their necks around to keep Chris in their line of sight. He was crouching down, poking at something with his back to them.

Leo addressed Chris' back, "So what about Phinks?"

Standing up, Chris wandered over to the other side of the room. Folding his arms, he leaned back against the wall. "So…Phinks is the weak link. He's the go-between Zankou and Jeremiah."

Piper shook her head, "I'm still confused. So?"

Snatching up a nearby object from his dresser top, Chris began to toss it in the air casually. "So, Zankou doesn't know we've caught Jeremiah yet. All I need to do is get Phinks to relay a message…"

"That Jeremiah wants to meet," Leo finished his son's thought, nodding approvingly. "That could work."

Rolling his eyes, Chris continued, "We get Phinks to tell Zankou Jeremiah wants to meet and we'll be waiting for the bastard."

"I don't know – it sounds rather dangerous," Piper frowned doubtfully. "What makes you think Phinks won't betray you?"

"I don't. He's a demon – it's in his nature to betray. But Phinks knows he's vanquish dust if he sells me out," Chris pointed out logically. "Anyways – that's the best plan we can come up with."

"I still don't like it," Piper said argumentatively. "What if Phinks sets you up with Zankou?"

Chris shrugged nonchalantly, "That's a chance we're going to have to take. Darryl and I decided that this was the best course of action to take."

"And exactly what action is that?" Leo scratched his head, not following. "You get Phinks to lure Zankou to the spot we talked about and then what?

"Then we trick him into revealing he was behind the attack on Kate," Chris outlined logically. "I've told Freyna to meet us there. She hears the truth and then we vanquish him."

"What if he doesn't fall for it?" Piper voiced worriedly. "What if we can't trick him into admitting he was the one who had Kate killed?"

"Then I'll have to convince him otherwise," Chris replied grimly, his eyes darkening.

"Chris – listen to yourself. There are too many holes in this plan. We need to rethink this. I don't think –," Alarmed at the change in Chris' demeanour, Piper started to say before Chris cut her off abruptly.

"We don't have time to think up another plan," Chris interrupted harshly, accidentally dropping the object he was playing with on the ground. Seeing the light of battle in his mother's eyes, Chris held up his hand to forestall further arguments, "Mom – trust me. We don't have a choice. We've got one day left. If we had more time, maybe we could come up with a better plan but…" Chris trailed off, before saying firmly, "But we don't so the plan as is still stands."

Piper's mouth snapped shut with a click as she agreed reluctantly, "You're right. But I still don't have to like it."

"That I'm right or the plan?" Chris quipped. Seeing the flash of ire in her eyes, Chris apologized, "Sorry – I have a tendency to make light of things in the most inappropriate times." His eyes briefly glanced at the clock on the wall as he checked the time again.

"Is there somewhere you have to be?" Leo asked straight out, a little irritated with Chris' obvious lack of focus on the conversation at hand.

"What?" Chris asked distractedly. Shaking himself lightly, he slid his hands into his pockets, palming the item he was searching for. He avoided his parents' eyes, moving towards the door.

"Are you even listening to us?" indignation was clear in Piper's voice. As Chris continued to ignore her, Piper felt her exasperation rise another level. "Chris!"

Finally coming to a stop, Chris slowly turned to face his mother as he crouched down. Looking up at her, he said merely, "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for –,"

Reaching into his pocket, Piper saw a flash of white before she realized what he had done. "Chris!"

The last stone in place, the magical cage created by the crystals Chris had been so carefully placing around the room flared up, trapping his parents inside.

Feeling her temper boil over, Piper said in a deadly voice, "You remove those crystals right now, young man!" How dare he!

Straightening, Chris shook his head. He took a step backwards, his wary gaze never leaving his mother's. "I'm sorry."

Alarmed at Chris' response, Leo came as close as the cage would let him. Carefully, he reached out before snatching his hands back as the magical prison crackled with electricity. He watched as his son seemed to almost steel himself, abruptly spinning on his heel and heading for the door. Desperate to stop his son before he left, Leo pleaded, "Chris, wait. Please. You can't do this alone."

His hand on the doorframe, Chris paused. His back still facing them, Leo could hear the regret in Chris' voice as he replied, "I _have_ to do this alone."

"Zankou is extremely powerful!" Piper could hear the desperation in her voice. "Chris – listen to me! To us! The Power of Three – you said it yourself that the spell needs us to cast it!"

His voice was low, "Darryl and I talked about it. We have to make sure you get back to your own time and fix things there. We're going to have to make do without that spell."

Piper gaped in astonishment, "You can't mean that! You're no match for him!"

He turned slightly, enough so that his parents could make out his profile. Still keeping his face averted, Chris shook his head, "I'm sorry. I can't risk anything happening to you. It could change the future in even worse ways. You know that. It's too risky."

"Chris - wait!" Piper shouted, fear making her voice tremble as she desperately wracked her brain for an alternative. "Wait – please, just wait!"

His back stiffened as he paused on the threshold of the door. He turned back, his face half concealed by shadows, "Just – get rid of Excalibur, like you promised."

"Don't do this, Chris," Leo pleaded, his desperation evident in his voice. "Please…"

"It's for the best," Chris whispered. Taking the last step over the threshold of the door, he reached behind him to pull the door close.

The door shut.

They were trapped.

* * *

To be continued… 

A/N: Holy cow that was a dog's breakfast to write – hopefully the rest of the chapters will be less painful!


	15. Chapter 14

A/N: Sorry, no Chris in this chapter. I decided I wanted to bump all his scenes to the next chapter. I don't know why but this story continues to be one of the hardest for me to write. In case anyone's wondering, I think we're a little more than two thirds through...please note I'm writing everything off the cuff so it's just a guess.

Thanks to my reviewers: Charmed Ravenclaw, Icantthinkofafnick, Sensue, girl-with-the-green-eyes, chattypandagurl, Zeria, charmedtomeetyou. Your support had been incredible and I can't thank you enough.

**

* * *

The End of All Things **

**Chapter 14**

* * *

_One day left…_

She watched as her lover packed his knapsack, carefully tucking away the various potion bottles here and there. He hadn't said a word to her since returning from his previous mission – only that he would be leaving shortly for another one and wasn't sure if was going to make it back.

_Wasn't sure?_

Her heart tightened painfully and for a moment, she couldn't breath. He looked up, seeing her fear for him clearly written across her face. As he zipped his bag shut, he crossed the couple of feet between them to grip both of her shoulders tightly. "I love you, you know that right?"

Silently the tears began to release, slowly leaking from the corners of her eyes as she nodded vigorously, unable to respond.

Pulling her into a strong embrace, he pressed a fierce kiss against the top of her head, breathing in her scent, "These past two years…despite everything, despite the war…I've never been happier."

Wiping at her eyes furiously, she sobbed, "Please stop. Please don't talk like that."

Duncan hugged his beloved tightly, "I have to. I don't want anything left unspoken between us if…" He paused significantly, "It's a risky mission, sweetheart."

"Then don't go," She gazed up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "Tell Chris to find someone else. Stay here. With me. Please."

Pulling back slightly so he could look into her eyes, Duncan said hoarsely, "I can't."

"Why?" She choked, her voice full of tears. "Why?"

"Because there _is_ no one else. At least – not with my abilities. Chris needs them. He needs me," Duncan explained gently, as he tilted her head up to meet his gaze. His voice was insistent, "He needs me."

"You don't owe him anything."

"Yes, yes I do. I owe him my loyalty, my trust…my life." Duncan's smile was sad, "Because he's my friend."

She hated sounding so selfish but she couldn't help herself. Her fingers curled involuntarily, clutching at his shirt, "And what about me? What about what you owe to me?"

"Please don't make this any harder than it already is," Duncan whispered. "You know I'd do anything for you."

"Do you think this is any easier for me?" she cried earnestly, bringing her fists up against her heart, banging against her chest in protest. "What do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you on the cheek like you're on your way to the office? Do you want me to pretend this isn't happening?"

"No! Of course not!" Duncan swore, staring at his beloved in frustration. "I just thought…" Seeing the hurt and fear in her eyes was tearing him apart. "Zach's gone. And he…and he never got a chance to tell Jane how much he loved her." Duncan's eyes begged her to understand as he whispered, "I just didn't want to make the same mistake."

"Then don't." Putting her finger to his lips to shush him, she voice quivered as she said bravely, "You come back to me, you hear?"

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on hers, breathing in her perfume, "I…I don't know if…"

"Shhh. Shhh." She wiped away her tears and pulled her lover closer, her fingers weaving through his hair. She whispered in his ear, "Just…promise me you'll come back to me."

He felt his heart clench and as he opened his mouth to swear to her what he had no right to do – she stopped him. Her cold fingers pressed against his mouth as she shook her head gently. "No. No, if you don't say it, then you won't break it. Right?"

He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, his voice barely audible, "Right."

* * *

_Somewhere in Ireland…_

The leprechaun looked questioningly at his friend, "So what do ye think?"

"I _think_ we're screwed," Ben sighed, making a face at his compatriot. "Any sign of the hostiles?"

"No," Shamus answered, shaking his head slightly. "But that doesn't mean they aren't there." Eyeing the magic professor, his Irish brogue soft and lilting, "I still don't know why they sent ye. No offence, man, but I was sort of expecting someone younger."

"Nice to see you too," Ben replied sarcastically, even though he was wondering the same thing himself. Not that there was much to wonder – the Resistance was short on resources. Zack's death was just another blow to the thinly spread forces that had to be absorbed. So people like Ben, who had never really seen much of the battlefield, were now rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands dirty.

The two were squatting behind a rather large rock just on the edge of the property, their target a rather innocent looking cabin. The home was more of a rickety, dilapidated, rundown version of a wood shed, sitting on an acre of what obviously used to be farmland. Ben had seen the situation before – people rebuilding with whatever material they had on hand on whatever property they had owned before the war. He shook his head; personally, he didn't understand the attachment to physical things – at least, especially after the war. But then again, human nature wasn't always logical.

Shamus had sent word to the Resistance that he suspected the family inside were in trouble. They were a nice family, he had said, for he had run into the mortals numerous times in the forest, foraging for food. Unlike most humans, they hadn't demanded help and even shared some of their finds with him and invited him into their home for tea. In turn, Shamus had taken a liking to the young family – a couple barely out of their twenties with a young toddler. He had taken to stopping by and chatting with the young folk every few days. Until today.

"So tell me again what makes you think they're in trouble?" Ben said softly, studying the windows for any signs of motion.

"Today when I went to knock on their door, the lassie didna invite me in," Shamus explained, his hands folded on top of his shillelagh. His eyes were worried, "She always invited me in for tea, before. But today…today she insisted that she didna have time."

"Maybe she really was busy?" Ben asked, his tone hopeful even though his gut knew better.

"Maybe," Shamus shrugged, clearly unconvinced. "After all, the field must surely need tendin'." The 'field' was clearly overrun with weeds and it was clear nothing was going to grow there soon.

Ben rolled his eyes, "All right, all right. It's definitely suspicious; I'll give you that. But what makes you think demons are involved?"

"That would be the massive footprints I found around back when I was nosin' around, lad," Shamus replied, nonchalantly. "They be brute demon prints, if ever I saw them."

"You couldn't have said something sooner?" Ben glared at the leprechaun in exasperation. "You had to tell me the whole story about her making you blueberry scones and freaking raspberry tea but you couldn't mention the demon footprints first?"

"Ye didna ask, lad," Shamus replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh for the love of God," Ben groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shooting the leprechaun a dirty look, "If these are brute demons we're talking about, you do realize I'm outnumbered?"

"Why did ye think I called for backup?" Shamus' eyebrow wiggled at Ben. "How was I to know they'd send ye? I thought they'd send someone a little…" Shamus cleared his throat, pausing before waving his hands vaguely, "Ye know. Bigger."

"Great," Ben muttered. "I can't believe a _leprechaun_ doesn't think I'm 'bigger'."

Shamus shrugged again. "What about him?" the leprechaun asked, jerking his head in the direction of the whitelighter who was crouched a few feet away behind another boulder.

"Sorry – he's a pacifist," Ben grimaced, peering over the boulder. He ignored the dirty look his ride shot him, explaining sardonically, "The only thing he's going to help with is waving a white flag."

"Well, lad, if it makes ye feel better, I think there's only one of them," Shamus grinned. "Surely you and I can take on one measly demon."

"It's a brute demon, Shamus," Ben replied sceptically. "Not a friggin' puppy."

"Aren't ye the professor of magic? Shouldna ye be able to conjure up some vanquishing potion?" Shamus pointed out, not a bit offended by Ben's tone.

Ben sighed and patted the small bag next to him. "I've got enough vanquishing potions to kill at least a couple of demons – the problem is luring him out of the house. I don't want anything to happen to the family…"

Shamus frowned before his face brightened, "Leave that to me, laddie. You just get ready to throw yer portion."

Before Ben could stop him, the little leprechaun leapt up from behind the rock and rushed towards the house. Cursing his small friend, Ben quickly reached into his bag, searching for the right potion vial, "Damn it, Shamus!"

Swallowing his fear, Shamus brought his shillelagh up and banged on the door of the small shed rather loudly. When he didn't hear a response, he looked over his shoulder, winking in Ben's general direction. Shamus drew a deep breath and bellowed, "Lassie! It's ye good friend, Shamus! I brought ye some ale to warm ye and yer laddie's hearth tonight. Come on, lassie! I ken yer in there!"

Pressing his ear to the door, Shamus could hear some scuffling noises and then, "Go away, Shamus! I didna have time for ye, ye annoying little man. I told ye time and time again – I don't have time for yer shenanigans."

Hearing those words, Shamus knew something was very, very wrong with his friends. They had never, ever told him that – in fact, they had welcomed him with open arms, him being the only friend around in this remote area west of the city. Redoubling his efforts, Shamus shouted, "I will not be leavin' till ye open this door, lassie. What kind of gratitude is that? Ye had best come to the door if ye know what's best for ye…"

The door yanked open to reveal an angry brute demon. "I'm going to kill you…" the demon trailed off as he looked left and right, seeing only thin air.

"Down here, you ass!" Shamus yelled before bringing his shillelagh down hard on the brute demon's foot. "Take that, ye bastard!" And in a blink of an eye, the leprechaun turned tail and ran.

Letting out a roar of pain, the brute demon lumbered out of the doorway, intent on pounding the leprechaun into dust. Consumed by rage, the demon was already halfway across the field before he realized his mistake.

Rising up from his hiding place from behind the rock, Ben smiled grimly as he whipped the vanquishing potion at the demon's chest. The demon's eyes widened, his arms going up to try to protect himself, his response too late.

In moments, the fire consuming the demon burnt out – leaving but a pile of black ash in its place.

Skidding to a halt, Shamus quickly turned around. Jogging back, he slapped the witch on the back lightly, "Good work, lad!"

"Shamus – I'm hardly a lad," Ben pointed out dryly, his response ignored as the leprechaun quickly made his way to the homestead.

"Lassie?" Shamus ventured into the doorway, pausing on the step as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkened home. "Laddie?"

Quickly joining his friend, Ben and the whitelighter appeared behind Shamus. "Is everyone all right?"

A sniffle.

Holding up his hand to forestall further questions from the two Resistance followers, Shamus said softly, "Lassie? It's all right now. Shamus is here. And I brought friends. We got rid of that brute demon."

"Shamus?" a timid voice responded.

"That's right, lassie," Shamus' tone was soothing, his ears pricking towards the sound at the back of the cabin. "It's all right now, lassie. I promise ye."

Still unable to see into the darkened room, Ben waved his hands, releasing small orbs of white light that immediately illuminated the room. He gasped, seeing the young woman crouched in the corner, terrified and holding tightly onto a small dirt smudged toddler. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, Shamus…" the young woman's voice trembled, her face streaked with tears, "I think…I think me husband's dead."

At the jerk of her head, the trio turned towards the opposite corner in the room. Crumpled in a heap on the floor, a young man's body lay unmoving. Cursing, Ben quickly crossed the floor to kneel next to the young man, pressing his fingers against the man's throat and searching for a pulse. "Christ." Throwing a look at the whitelighter, "What the hell are you waiting for? Get your ass over here and heal him."

Swiftly moving towards the fallen young man, the whitelighter held his hands out over the body, watching as the golden glow emanated from his hands. Glancing over his shoulder at the tearful young woman, the whitelighter offered an encouraging smile, "It's all right. He's just unconscious. I'll have him healed in no time."

Letting out a sob of relief, the young woman buried her head in her child's hair. The toddler, not understanding the situation but feeling the emotional tension in the air, began to cry. Hunkering down next to the young mother and child, Shamus awkwardly patted her back and held out a handkerchief, "There, there, lassie. Everything will be fine, ye'll see. Dry yer eyes now. Yer scaring yer wee laddie."

Taking the cloth from the leprechaun, the young woman dried her eyes, "I'm sorry. It's just…Oh Shamus. I'm so sorry for those horrible things I said to ye. It's just…he was goin' to kill us if I didna get rid of ye!"

"Don't ye apologize, lassie," Shamus soothed, now patting the young woman's shoulder. "It's not yer fault. Ye have nothin' to be sorry for."

As the whitelighter finished his healing, the young man blinked and opened his eyes, "Meg?"

"Shawn!" the young woman cried, scrambling to her feet. The toddler, dislodged from his secure position in his mother's arms, began to cry again.

Pushing away at the hands attempting to restrain him, the young husband stumbled towards his wife, "Meg!"

As the young couple hugged and kissed, Ben turned to find Shamus awkwardly holding onto the toddler who wasn't that much smaller than the leprechaun himself. Hiding a smile, Ben offered, "Would you like me to hold him?"

Looking relieved, Shamus readily handed over the toddler who immediately quieted as warm arms encircled him. Glancing over at the still reuniting couple, Ben almost felt a little awkward, as if he was intruding on a private moment. He snorted slightly, _Come to think of it, I am._

Shamus looked up at his friend, "Ye did good today, laddie."

Unexpected, Ben felt tears come to his eyes. It had been a long time since he had felt like he had done something positive. His failure to help Chris with his illness, the recent feelings of distrust from both the mortals and the magical community – he had begun to feel bitter and depressed. Today had been the first time in a long time that something had gone right. Seeing the happy couple in front of him, the beaming leprechaun at his side – it all reminded Ben sharply of why the Resistance did the things they did.

Friends helping friends.

Mortals and magical beings looking out for each other.

United, against the demons.

Jostling the child in his arms who gurgled happily, Ben blinked away the tears. He smiled down at the leprechaun, beginning to feel a lightness in his heart again where only recently it had felt so dark.

"You did good today, too."

* * *

_San Francisco…_

"D.J!" The loud whisper was accompanied by a hard shake.

Turning over, D.J. buried his face in his pillow, swatting away at the insistent hand. He mumbled into his pillow, "Go away."

"Hey! You're the idiot that wanted to check out the site at first light. Not me. Me – I was all for catching at least 6 hours of beauty sleep. But no, you were all 'we're running out of time, Michael. The valkyrie deadline is looming, Michael.'"

"Aw, hell," D.J. groaned as the previous night's events came flooding back. Rolling over onto his back, he opened one eye to blearily see his brother, fully dressed, grinning down at him. D.J. glared blearily at his brother, "Do you have to be so obnoxious?"

"Good morning to you, too," Michael sat down on the edge of his brother's bed, poking at his brother's shoulder. "Up and at them, sunshine. We got us a crime scene to investigate."

Irrationally, Michael's good mood only made D.J. more irritable. Shoving his brother off his bed, D.J. struggled out from under the tangled sheets. "You are this close to me punching your lights out."

"Geez," Michael rolled his eyes, moving across to the room to gather their stuff, not offended at all. Sheridan had set up one of the rooms in the city hall for the two brothers. Two cots from the nearby hospital had been lent which the two had promptly set up before crashing last night. The only window in the room showed the pinking sky outside, indicating that the dawn was beginning to creep forward. Arbitrarily shoving their stuff into a knapsack, Michael looked over his shoulder as he realized no movement was coming from D.J.'s side, "D.J.?"

Half sitting up, D.J. propped himself up on his elbows, shaking away the foggy effects of his dream from his brain. His face was thoughtful as he said slowly, "Something's not right."

Stopping what he was doing, Michael turned around to ask his brother, "What do you mean?"

Pulling himself into a sitting position, D.J. grimaced as he surveyed the rumpled condition of his clothing. They hadn't expected to be spending the night so he had had to sleep in his clothes. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he tried to explain the niggling he was experiencing in the back of his brain, "Yesterday. Something's not right."

"You mean Jeremiah? He told us all he knew, don't you think?" Michael prompted.

D.J. shook his head, "I mean – I don't buy it. He hates all magic but works with demons? He thinks you and I are traitors because we work with witches? He hates whitelighters? I'm telling you, it doesn't fit."

Shrugging, Michael replied, "Does it have to?"

"I guess not," D.J. said doubtfully. "But I think I want to have one last talk with him. Before we go check out that site."

"Well, it's your call –," Michael started when a knock on the door interrupted him. He yelled to whoever was outside, "Come in!"

Wincing, D.J. rubbed his ear, "I think I just lost hearing in my ear."

Ignoring his brother's belly aching, Michael brightened at the sight of their friend, "Kyle! You're back. What took you so long? I thought you were going to orb straight back here. That was over two hours ago. Everything okay at the border?"

The whitelighter nodded solemnly, "They were friendly, if a bit nervous. Sorry I didn't come by earlier; I ran into Sheridan and she said you were trying to catch some shuteye before sunrise so I figured you needed the rest. I decided instead to make myself useful and maybe spread some good PR by making a detour to the makeshift hospital."

Not surprised by their friend's generosity (after all, he _was_ a whitelighter for a reason!), D.J. queried, expecting a negative response, "So did you?"

"You mean generate some goodwill on behalf of the Resistance?" Kyle asked, only continuing after seeing D.J. nod encouragingly. "Well, they were only scared for the first half hour." Seeing Michael's crestfallen expression, Kyle hastened to add, "But after that, they were lining up in droves. I only managed to break myself free by promising I'd stop by later."

"Is that wise?" D.J. frowned. "We don't want people to assume we can cure all illnesses. We can't stand in the way of someone's fate, Kyle."

"Don't you think I know that?" Kyle retorted sharply. "I know there's a fine between helping and interfering with destiny."

"Then why do it?" D.J. countered just as quickly.

Kyle sighed, "Because…because it seemed like it was the right thing to do."

"Well, let's just hope it doesn't come back and bite us in the ass," D.J. replied sardonically. "Like everyone suddenly deciding whitelighters will be the answer to all their problems."

"Is he always this optimistic in the mornings?" Kyle looked sideways at Michael.

"No, that's how he is ALL the time," Michael quipped.

Giving his brother the evil eye, D.J. ran his hand through his hair, mussing his bed head even more if that was possible, "Let's just get out of here already, okay?"

Sweeping his arm towards the door, Michael took a little bow, "After you."

Not in the mood to humour Michael, D.J. glared at his younger sibling's antics, grumbling as he brushed past him, "I swear to God, you must have been switched at birth."

Kyle merely raised an eyebrow as Michael quickly trailed after him, calling out to D.J., "Love you too, bro. Love you, too."

* * *

_At the Resistance's headquarters…_

"Tell Jack that's unacceptable," Darryl spoke urgently, leaning down next to the telepath currently seated at the communications array.

Nodding the telepath relayed the message to her counterpart located in Vahalla. Shaking her head, the telepath, Sarah, looked up at Darryl, "Jack says he can't get the valkyries aren't listening. Darryl – they're furious."

Rubbing his temple with his right hand, Darryl tried to ignore the pounding in his head. After seeing Chris off, Darryl had managed to catch less than a couple of hours of sleep before the young telepath had urgently summoned him to the command centre. Because of the early morning hour, the room was virtually free of life – the graveyard shift of three telepaths still on duty for the next hour. Normally, one of Darryl's trusted group, be it Ben or Duncan or even one of his own sons would be on call. However, consistent with the trend, once again resources were spread thin and the only person on call for emergencies of latewas Darryl.

Upon arriving at the command centre, Sarah had quickly filled him in. A call had come in from the outskirts of Schwarzwald, a forest which boasted one of the most populated magical communities in the mortal planes. Thousands of fairies, wood nymphs and other assorted magical beings made their home deep in the forest in southwest Germany. Apparently the local mortal inhabitants had decided to invade the Black Forest, chopping down trees left and right in an effort to build shelter. Furious, the fairies had retaliated best they could – making nuisances of themselves. Realizing their disadvantage, the fairies had called on their fellow neighbours in the magical community – the valkyries.

Jack, the Resistance's long time liaison with the valkyries, had heard about the call from the fairies and had swiftly convinced Freyna to take him along, sensing something was wrong. Reluctantly, the valkyrie leader had allowed him to follow her and some of her sisters, allowing Jack to quickly assess the situation upon their arrival. Within moments, he had known the violent potential to explode as the valkyries' faced off against the local humans.

Jack had sent a call out for help back at the Resistance's headquarters. Luckily, Sarah, one of his good friends, had been on duty and had quickly realized that she would need Darryl. She had summoned the de facto leader of the Resistance, hoping he would be able to provide Jack with the answers he needed. Unfortunately, almost all scout contingents were deployed elsewhere, leaving Jack without backup and Darryl with no way to defuse the situation.

"What's going on?" Darryl demanded. "What is Jack seeing?"

Sarah shook her head, focusing hard, "The valkyries and humans are at a standoff. Nobody's made a move yet. Jack is trying to get both sides to start talking."

"Tell Jack to tell the valkyries they need to leave the area…now," Darryl commanded.

_:Jack – can you get the valkyries to back off?...:_

A slight pause and then, Jack's telepathic voice responded, _:They aren't going to leave – the fairies are their allies, even before _we_ were. __Plus, they're not necessarily the ones at fault here. This IS the Black Forest, after all. I'm not convinced the humans have any right to the resources here.:_

Sarah relayed the message back to Darryl who shook his head. "I don't disagree with him, but the fact of the matter is the valkyries are the bigger threat here – both in terms of magic and pure fighting ability. Right now, I'm more worried about casualties – we'll sort out the land issues later."

_:Yeah, right. I don't even need to tell Freyna that. She would laugh me out of town. Face it – even if I could get Freyna to back off, as soon as the valkyries leave, this forest is gone; the trees will be firewood and they'll drain the lake. All you'll have to fight over is a piece of ran-sacked land which no one will want anyways at that point.:_ Jack snorted, after listening to Sarah's message.

Sympathising with Jack's position, Sarah quickly brought Darryl up to date. He frowned at her, unconvinced, "We can't take sides, Sarah. Tell Jack we have to be neutral – and neutral means getting both sides to start a dialogue."

_:The only dialogue that's going to happen here is a right hook and a left jab if I don't get some backup.:_ Jack responded to Sarah's statement. _:You can tell Darryl to put that in his pipe and smoke it.:_

Carefully choosing to censor some of Jack's choicer words, Sarah told Darryl, "Jack says he's not going to be able to get either side to listen to him if we don't send him some backup…"

Darryl threw her a pained look. "Don't you think I know that? But we don't have anyone available –," Darryl broke off his sentence as Sarah suddenly clutched her head in pain. "Sarah?"

She shook her head, her eyes tightly screwed shut, "Jack says the humans have started shooting arrows. And the valkyries are responding!"

"Tell Jack to tell Freyna that this is unacceptable. Any act of violence by her or her sisters will be taken as an act of war," Darryl said grimly, hoping to hell he wouldn't regret his brash words. "Tell him – if Freyna doesn't stop this now, God help us, we won't have a choice but to take the mortals side on this."

Sarah threw a terrified glance at Darryl, "Darryl…"

"Tell him, Sarah," Darryl squeezed the shoulder of the telepath, silently reassuring her.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah closed her eyes, once again focusing on sending the message to her counterpart.

_:Jack:_

_:Yeah:_

His mind voice was tense – clearly indicating to Sarah the precarious position he was in. She tried to make her own mind voice calm and soothing, trying to give Jack all the support she could, hundreds and thousands of miles away. _:Darryl says…:_

_:What?...:_ His tone was sharp. _:Spit it out, Sarah. I don't have the luxury of time, you know.:_

Her voice came out in a rush, _:Darryl says to tell Freyna that if she continues with this act of violence, he's going to take it as a declaration of war. And we'll have no choice but to back the mortals.:_

_:Are you fucking crazy out of your mind?...:_ Jack's 'voice' was so loud that Sarah winced. He continued, _:I'm NOT telling Freyna that. She's a bloody god damned valkyrie for Christ's sakes! It's like waving a red flag at a bull. Are you people nuts!...:_

Clearing her throat mildly, she opened her eyes to find Darryl pacing the floor next to her. "Jack says that's not going to work."

Darryl frowned, "I gave him an order, Sarah. It's not open for negotiation."

_:Jack – Darryl says it's an order…:_

_:Well then you can tell Darryl to kiss my ass. Oh wait – that's right, he's not here:_ Jack replied sarcastically. _:You tell him I'll handle this my own way.:_

"Well?"

Sarah opened her eyes again to see Darryl tapping his foot impatiently at her. She shrugged, "Jack won't do it."

"God damn it, Sarah!" Darryl exploded. "What the fuck is the matter? We're about to lose control of the situation!"

"Then maybe you should tell Jack yourself!" Sarah shouted back, sick and tired of being the go-between. As Darryl's eyes widened in disbelief, Sarah reigned in her temper, "Fuck, Darryl. Jack's the one on the ground. Maybe we should go with him on this."

Massaging his temple, Darryl sighed. "All right. Get Jack to talk them down. Tell him if he can't defuse the situation…"

Turning back to her station, Sarah threw her thoughts out once again to her friend, _:Jack...:_

His mind voice was almost absent minded, clearly distracted by something. _:Yeah...:_

_:Darryl says we'll try it your way.:_

_:No shit, Sherlock:_ Jack started to say sardonically when suddenly his mind voice changed. _:FUCK! That freakin' hurt, you bastard!...:_

_:Jack?...:_ Sarah sat up anxiously, her back ramrod straight. _:Jack – are you okay?...:_ When she received no response, she could feel her panic creeping in, _:Jack – answer me!...:_

Silence.

"Sarah?" Darryl was looking at Sarah fearfully, knowing from her body language that something was wrong. "Sarah – what is Jack saying?"

Tears sprang to her eyes, "I don't know. He won't answer me!"

_:Jack!...:_

No response.

:_Jack – you son of a bitch. Answer me! I swear to God, if you're hurt or dying, I'm going to…:_

_:Shut up, Sarah:_

She nearly sagged in relief, _:Jack:_

_:Hold on…:_

"Sarah?" Darryl shook her shoulder slightly to get the telepath to look at him. "Is Jack okay?"

She nodded, "I think so. He said to hold on." She looked into Darryl's eyes, seeing her fear for their friend reflected back at her. "I…I think he's onto something." She felt her tears swell up in her eyes again as she frantically tried to blink them back, "God, Darryl. I thought…I thought something had happened to him." Sarah shook her head, "God. I'm a million miles away and he could have been hurt…or worse…"

"But he's not," Darryl said gently, placing a hand on Sarah's arm. "You said so yourself."

"But he could be!" Sarah protested. She buried her head in her hands, "First Duncan, now Jack. I can't lose them, Darryl. I can't lose either of them."

Darryl could only squeeze Sarah's arm in comfort. He, too, had lost so many friends and family during the war to know the agony of being helpless. As the two tensely waited for word from their friend, Darryl whispered, "Jack's going to be all right, Sarah. He's got a good head on his shoulders. You'll see. He's going to be all right."

Clenching and unclenching her fists, Sarah focused her eyes on the wall clock, counting the seconds as it ticked away. _Come on, Jack. Come on._

:_Sarah:_

_:Jack:_ She asked, her hopeful expression causing Darryl to snap to attention.

_:We're good here:_ The weariness in Jack's voice was clear, even through their telepathy. _:The valkyries are backing down and the mortals are backing off.:_

Heaving a sigh of relief, she gave Darryl the thumb's up sign even as she asked, _:How did you do it?...:_

_:Who could resist a charmer like me?...:_ Jack joked half-heartedly, his exhaustion tingeing every aspect of his mind voice. _:Seriously? I was lucky. The leader on the human's side isn't mean hearted. He honestly didn't know there were inhabitants in the Black Forest – let alone fairies. He's negotiating with them now – they've got Baden Baden almost fully rebuilt and he's invited the fairies for a visit.:_

_:And the valkyries?...:_

_:I simply reminded them their promise to Chris.:_ There was a note of satisfaction in his tone. _:If there's one thing you can count on with Freyna is that she will always act with honour.:_

_:And you? You okay?...:_ Sarah sent a quiver of concern over the thought path, letting Jack know just how scared she'd been.

_:I'm good. Just nicked by one of those flying arrows. Hazard of the profession, I guess:_

She could almost feel him nodding down the line_. :You sure you're okay? I don't need to send a whitelighter out to you?...:_

_:Nah. Don't want the warrior ladies to think I'm a wimp, you know:_ Jack's mind voice was relaxed now that the crisis has past_. :Look, I'll touch base later to file a full report. We've still got some details to work out and I don't want to be distracted.:_

_:All right:_ Sarah replied reluctantly. She nodded at Darryl, "Jack is signing off now. Anything you want me to tell him?"

Darryl shook his head, "Just tell him – good job."

Closing her eyes, Sarah sent off the final message, her mouth curving into a slight smile as she closed the connection. "He said to tell you he expects a cheque in the mail."

Darryl let out a bark of laughter, "In his dreams." Relieved that the crisis was over, Darryl glanced over at the clock, "I wonder if I should even bother to go back to my quarters. Another two hours and I have to be on duty anyways."

Clearing her throat slightly, Sarah said casually, "Err. You may want to go back to change your clothes at least."

Looking down at himself in surprise, Darryl blink. He had raced to the command centre, barely paying attention to what he was wearing, grabbing a housecoat on his way from his quarters. Because he had been awaken from his slumber, underneath the robe he was currently clad in blue and black stripped pyjamas and a pair of fuzzy slippers graced his feet. He felt his face warm with embarrassment as Sarah pretended not to notice. "Those slippers were a gift from my sons," Darryl said defensively. "My feet get cold."

"Oh, mine do too," Sarah hid her grin behind a well placed hand.

Glaring at the telepath, Darryl threw up his hands in the air in defeat before stalking towards the exit, "I'm going to go back to bed. Call me if you need anything else."

"Will do. Oh, and Darryl?"

Darryl paused, turning slightly to look over his shoulder, "Yeah?"

"Good night!"

* * *

To be continued…. 


	16. Chapter 15

A/N: a little note about updating – as I'm sure you've noticed, I've been posting about once a month lately. Part of the reason is that I've been struggling with the writing – I know what I want to write but it just doesn't always happen. I have always made the commitment to myself, for better or worse, that I would never leave a story unfinished (hence the hastily finished _Redundant_). However, I don't want to wind up in the same place as last time, (where I was generally unhappy with the story and had to completely overhaul it) so rather than force myself, I may take a little longer to update.

Special thanks go to all the wonderful people who have left me reviews throughout my writing endeavours – whenever I hit that writer's block I go back to read all the lovely comments left for me and remember why I do this.

Thanks especially go to Sparkling Cherries (times two!), Charmed Ravenclaw, Sensue and charmedtomeetyou for reviewing the previous chapter – Thank God there are still a few of you still reading this!

**

* * *

The End of All Things**

**Chapter 15**

* * *

_Somewhere in the Underworld…_

His palms sweaty, he reached out blindly to feel his way along the tunnel path in the murky darkness. Up ahead, Chris could barely make out the outline of Duncan's form as the two stealthily crept through the network of tunnels in the Underworld.

If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn something or someone was watching him. He'd been feeling eyes on the back of his neck ever since he and Duncan had orbed down to the Underworld. He wasn't sure if he was being paranoid but either way, he was definitely feeling skittish. His stomach was tied in knots and he sternly told it to relax, concentrating on keeping his breathing even in an effort to alleviate the tension.

In all his time as the leader of the Resistance or as the Charmed Ones' whitelighter, he had never felt this terrified before. Sure he had been scared – only an idiot wouldn't be afraid of the danger he had constantly found himself in. Over time, he had learned to control and suppress the involuntary reaction but it had never been like _this_. Never this stark, cold…almost _paralysing_ feeling of sheer terror.

Then again, the stakes had never been so high.

They were on the brink of war – a war that no longer recognized good versus evil or mortals and witches against demons. At least before…it was clear who the enemy was or so it seemed. The storm that was brewing was culminating in a struggle where the mantra was _every man for himself; _where former friends were fast becoming enemies and alliances were viewed as weaknesses rather than something to embrace. The world was quickly spinning out of control and Chris knew even if he and Duncan succeeded today in bringing Zankou to justice and prevented the hostilities between the mortals and the valkyries from escalating into violence, it would simply be a delay rather than a resolution. His mouth quirked as a quote rose unbidden in his mind, _It's a band aid for a bullet wound._

The reality of the situation was sobering because Chris knew that whatever happened today would forever change the course of history. Would all his sacrifices come to naught? His friends, family…hell, _Wyatt_ – would it all be for nothing if the world erupted into another all consuming conflict?

And even more sobering was the fact that even if they did succeed, disagreements were bound to still occur between the mortals and magical beings. The distrust between the non-magical community and the magical community was deep-rooted and far-reaching. Prejudices still ran deep and it would take more than a simple explanation to prevent further disputes. He fretted that the valkyries would dismiss Darryl as a mediator – Chris' relationship with the valkyries had been rare. The trust and respect afforded to him had never been granted to anyone else before. Adding to that worry, he knew Riley and the other magical beings he represented were wary of Darryl's allegiances. Riley had insisted that Darryl was human and therefore, susceptible to undue influence from Sheridan, no matter how many times Chris had reassured the leprechaun that this was as far as possible from the actual truth. And Chris fretted because he knew he wasn't going to be around to help.

Or, more accurately, _be_ around at all.

Shaking himself lightly, Chris forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Right now, there was no point worrying about what would or wouldn't happen. It was, in some ways, out of his hands. All he could do was do his bit and hope that whatever he did here and now would set in motion for everything in the future.

_Everything goes according to plan or not_, Chris reminded himself philosophically, grimacing slightly. Swallowing his fear, he glanced heavenward and offered up a prayer, _Mom, if you're listening 'up there', I could really use a little attention down here right about now._

Shaking his head clear, Chris forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Tracking their demon informant down was proving more difficult then anticipated. They had already checked the usual demon haunts. The cave tunnels they were currently in was their last lead – if it didn't pan out, they were screwed.

_OUCH!_

Lost in thought, Chris never saw it coming. Smacking his head hard against something sharp, he let out a hiss of pain. Rubbing his head tenderly Chris swore silently before signalling Duncan, who was looking back at him in concern, to ignore him. He glared sourly at the offending rock jutting out from the side of the wall, almost positive that the thing had done it to him on purpose.

If that wasn't an omen – he didn't know what was.

"Psst!"

At Duncan's signal, Chris darted forward, coming up to crouch beside his friend. The huge boulder they were hiding behind allowed them to conceal their presence from detection. Cautiously peeking around the convenient shield, Chris' eyes narrowed as they took in the scene unfolding in front of them.

It was Phinks, alone, pacing the cave floor back and forth muttering to himself. The light from the nearby torches revealed that the cave was some sort of lair for the demon – assorted junk and knick-knacks littered its floor and a bubbling cauldron occupied the pride of place smack in the middle of the cluttered cave.

Chris signalled a sequence of complex hand gestures to Duncan, who nodded. With one last look, his friend was off – pressed up against the shadowy cave walls as he made his way to the other side of the cave. Chris continued to observe the demon as he patiently waited for Duncan to get into position.

_It's now or never…_

Palming the potion vial in his right hand, Chris rose up swiftly from his hiding position and gracefully leapt over the barrier. On the opposite side, Duncan revealed his position, catching the eye of the demon. Phinks made a short strangled noise before trying to shimmer out, clearly realizing he was in trouble. Practically tripping over his feet, Chris sped towards the escaping demon and hurled the potion vial with deadly accuracy. The glass, powered by his telekinesis, shattered on impact.

As soon as the liquid made contact with the demon, his half formed orbs swiftly corporealized – the potion made to stop the demon from shimmering out. Phinks' head whipped around in the direction of where Chris was swiftly closing in and his eyes widened. The demon managed to squeak out as Chris' hand closed around his throat, "Eck!"

"Hello, Phinks," Chris replied calmly, staring into the demon's terrified face. "Long time no see. What have you been up to? Getting into trouble, no doubt."

A muffled noise emitted from the demon's throat as Chris' eyebrow rose. "What's that, Phinks? Can't hear you." In response to the demon's inaudible gurgle, Chris relaxed his grip slightly, "Oh that's right. Guess you can't speak with my hand around your throat, eh?"

Phinks' eyes darted anxiously from side to side and seeing only Duncan's grim visage, Phinks eeked out, "I not been up to nothin'. Nothin'! I swears!"

"Don't lie to me, Phinks," Chris' eyes narrowed. "I happen to know for a fact that you work for Zankou."

Phinks whimpered, "I dids what he asks, sometimes. That's it! I swears!"

"I'm more interested in what you've been doing in the new San Francisco area," Chris glared down at the demon. "Specifically, Jeremiah."

"Who?" the demon questioned coyly, still not fully appreciating his precarious position.

Impatient, Chris felt his fingers clenching into the demon's neck and effectively cutting off Phinks' air supply. "Tell me what I want to know, Phinks!" Chris said softly, his tone deadly and his grip tightening around the rapidly purpling demon. "Now!"

"I swear – ," Phinks began to choke out, "I swears I don't know nothing."

Chris' eyes narrowed, "I don't believe you. You and I – we've played this game way too often. Now you either tell me what I want to hear or I'll vanquish you." Chris' eyes bored into the terrified, snivelling demon as he said harshly, "You know I mean what I say. Now tell me what I want to know!" He pressed his arm against the demon's trachea hard, unsympathetically watching as the demon's eyes bulged in terror.

"Please, please…" the demon choked, tugging at Chris' arm ineffectually. "I don't know nothing. I swears!"

"I don't have time for this," Chris swore. His gaze remained on the struggling demon as Chris directed Duncan, "Give me the vanquishing potion."

"No! No!" Phinks began to blubber. "Please…I swears! I swears I don't know nothing!"

Duncan ignored Phinks babbling, reaching into his pocket to withdraw the vanquishing potion. Phinks' eyes widened in terror as Duncan casually pulled the cork out with his teeth before calmly placing the vial into Chris' outstretched hand.

"Please…please…" Phinks began to beg, sweat pouring down his face. "Why woulds I lies to you? I nevers before. You and me – we're pals."

"Listen to me carefully, Phinks. We were never pals." With one hand firmly securing the demon against the wall, Chris slammed Phinks head back against the wall, his teeth bared, "I don't have time for this. I'm going to ask you one more time. Where – is – Zankou?"

As Phinks kept shaking his head, Chris clearly lost all patience. Slowly and deliberately he brought his other hand into view, the one with the vanquishing potion. The demon's eyes were wild with fright as Chris raised his hand over the demon's head, holding the vanquishing vial above him. Chris tilted it just a bit, so that a small drop released to fall on the helpless demon's head.

"Owwwww! Stop! Stop!" Phinks howled with pain as the tiny bit of potion sizzled against his skin on contact, smoke emanating from the hot spot. Tears of pain filled the demon's eyes, "No! No! No!"

Chris looked into Phinks' face steadily, "I'm not going to ask you again, got it? Tell me what I want to know or I'll do the world a favour and remove your sorry existence!"

Clearly terrified of losing his life, the demon began to babble, "I tells Zankou when that one wants to meet. You must've made my master nervous these past few weeks – usually I goes to check once week but Zankou mades me watches him now."

"Zankou has had you watching Jeremiah? How long? What have you told him?" Duncan looked stupefied at the revelation.

"Since valkyries came. And I didn't tell him nothing yet. I waits for that one to come to the place but he nevers shows. I didn't know whats to do," Phinks tugged pleadingly at Chris' arm which remained solid against the demon's throat. "So's I waits."

Chris split his attention towards his friend, his face a picture of grim satisfaction, "Zankou obviously doesn't know we've got Jeremiah under wraps."

Duncan nodded, "We might actually pull this off."

Phinks looked hopefully from Chris' to Duncan, "So's I cans go? I dids good, right?"

Chris nodded, "You're doing good, Phinks. Now tell me how I can find Zankou."

The demon pointed at the bubbling cauldron, "He contacts me throughs that. And thens I go to him." Phinks tugged optimistically at Chris' sleeve, "I cans go?"

Ignoring the demon's snivelling, Chris levelled a steady glance at Duncan, "You have everything you need?"

Duncan nodded slowly, "Think so."

"Do better than think," Chris said sharply. "We only have one chance at this. You can either do it or not. I need to know."

Sighing, Duncan's eyes slid away from the frightened demon as he said softly, "I can do it."

"So's I cans go now?" Phinks blinked at Chris, once again tugging ineffectively at the strong arm pressing against his neck.

Chris gave the demon a sceptical look, "I don't trust you not to open your big mouth."

Interpreting the look in Chris' eyes, the demon began to shake in sheer terror, "Buts I tolds you whats you wants! I did! I have! And you always let me go. You did!"

Shaking his head sadly at the demon's babbling, Chris experienced a brief flash of regret. As demons went, Phinks wasn't all that bad. He had helped Chris, in one way or another, over the years with his intel. No question that Phinks was evil but he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer which rendered the demon relatively harmless - more of a nuisance really.

"Please," the demon begged, his eyes darting left and right as he uselessly looked for help out of his precarious position. "Please…I won't tell no one. I never did. And you always let me go. You can always let me go."

"I guess not this time." Chris looked at Phinks' straight in the eye as he brought his other hand down hard to smash the vanquishing vial against the top of the demon's head, snatching his hand back as the demon was engulfed in flames, leaving the two Resistance fighters to stare at the scorch mark on the floor.

Turning to face Duncan, Chris opened his mouth but was suddenly interrupted by a fit of coughing. Unable to help himself, he doubled over in pain, his chest heaving and shoulders shaking as the uncontrollable fit consumed him. Vaguely he was aware of Duncan gripping onto his shoulders in an attempt to steady him.

With an iron will, Chris forced back the nausea that rose up, swallowing hard only to taste the saltiness of his own bile. Bracing his hands on his knees, he continued to allow his head to hang down, occasionally spitting a mixture of blood and saliva onto the cave floor. When the coughing fit finally passed, he straightened weakly, letting Duncan assist him. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth he ignored Duncan's sympathetic look, asking hoarsely, "Are you ready to do this?"

"Does it even matter?" Duncan returned frankly, his eyes weary. He sighed at Chris' reproachful gaze, "I'm ready."

"Then let's do this."

* * *

_At the Resistance's headquarters…_

"Do you really think that will work?" Phoebe asked her sister doubtfully, holding up the small vial to the light as she studied the blue liquid.

Paige shrugged, looking slightly harassed, "No. But it's the best I can do under the circumstances. Anyways, even if it won't necessarily stop Zankou, I think it will at least slow him down."

"No, you're right. I didn't mean to question you." Nodding absently, Phoebe said soothingly before a knock on the door interrupted her. "Yes?"

A head poked around the door, revealing a woman with light blond hair, "Oh sorry. I was looking for Darryl. Someone told me he was here."

Looking at her sister, Paige shook her head, "He stopped by here yesterday but we haven't seen him since. Sorry."

The woman nodded her thanks, her tone disappointed, "Oh. I was hoping to catch him." Rather than leaving, the woman continued to hesitate, as if wanting to say something else.

"Is there something else we can help you with?" Phoebe prompted.

The woman hesitated again before saying slowly, "You're the Charmed Ones, right?"

"Yes…" Paige drew out the word cautiously, not sure how well known Darryl and Chris had made their presence in the future know. "How did you know?"

Stepping into the small room, the woman closed the door behind her, leaning back against it, her eyes serious. "Duncan – he told me."

"I didn't think it was general knowledge…" Phoebe threw a cautious glance at Paige, not knowing how to respond.

The blond shrugged. "Duncan and I…" She trailed off, falling silent.

"Oh!" Paige relaxed, relieved to know there appeared to be a good reason why this woman knew their identities. The last thing she wanted was another scene like the confrontation that had greeted them when they had first arrived in the future. Paige shivered unconsciously as she recalled those chilling words…_burn witches, burn!_

About to turn away, the woman stopped abruptly before blurting out, "How could you?"

"I'm sorry?" Phoebe asked, confused. She glanced over at Paige to see if her sister knew what the woman was referring to. Getting a confounded look, Phoebe turned back to the blonde, hoping to understand, "How could I what?"

"How could you let this happen?"

Her brow beetling, Phoebe was truly confused. "I don't understand what you mean…"

"I mean this! The future! How could you let this happen?" the woman demanded, making a sweeping motion with her arm in an effort to encompass the entire future in such a simple gesture.

Feeling slightly defensive, (after all, it wasn't like they had let anything happen…yet), Paige tried to defuse the heated accusation being hurled at her and her sister, "We…we didn't _let_ this happen. But we're trying our best to stop it from happening."

"Oh yeah? Then why is my lover on a suicide mission to stop Zankou and you're sitting here safely tucked away?" the woman shouted, the blood rushing to her face as her anger surfaced once again.

Phoebe gaped at the woman who seemed to be borderline hysterical, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Chris! And how he's dragged my fiancé to his death to stop Zankou," the woman yelled, tears beginning to stream down from her face as the precariousness of Duncan's situation flooded her consciousness. She forced the panic back through sheer force of will, "I'm talking about how your nephew has dragged Duncan with him on his stupid mission to save the world because you couldn't."

Blinking rapidly, Phoebe ingested the information that Chris had abandoned the plan and had obviously decided to pursue his own agenda. Realizing Duncan's lover was still waiting for a response, Phoebe offered lamely, "I'm sure Chris knows what he's doing. He'll do everything he can to protect your fiancé."

The blonde snorted, "Then you obviously don't know your nephew. Chris will sacrifice whatever and whoever he has to just to save his family without regard to anyone else."

"I can't believe that," Paige started to say before she was interrupted.

"Believe it," the woman sneered cruelly. She shot the two sisters a murderous look, "All you had to do was stop Wyatt from turning evil –,"

"What is going on here?" Darryl demanded, suddenly pushing his way into the room. "I can hear the shouting from the hall." He directed his stare at the blonde, his gaze pinning her to the wall, "Sarah? What are you doing here?"

Wiping angrily at the tears streaming from her eyes, Sarah shook her head. "I was looking for you. I wanted to know if you'd heard anything from Duncan."

"Nothing yet but it's still early. As soon as we know something, you will too," Darryl said gently, well aware of the relationship the woman had with Duncan. "Go back to your quarters, Sarah. Get some rest."

About to protest, Sarah threw a glance over her shoulders at the two Charmed sisters before looking away in disgust, "I'm done here anyways." Pushing her way past Darryl, she escaped back into the hall.

Darryl looked at the sisters who seemed shell-shocked. "You okay?" He looked over his shoulder at the now empty hallway behind him. "Don't take it personally. Sarah's under a lot of stress."

"We all are," Paige pointed out logically. Chewing the side of her mouth thoughtfully, Paige voiced the doubts in her thoughts, "Was she right?"

"Was she right about what?" Darryl asked wearily.

"Was she right about us? Is it our fault?" Paige whispered, her eyes wet. "Did we fail Wyatt?"

Before Darryl could respond, Phoebe stepped in front of her sister and gently grasped Paige's chin. Looking directly into Paige's eyes, "We didn't fail him, Paige. We _didn't_," Phoebe insisted. "We won't."

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Paige closed her eyes briefly to escape the intensity of Phoebe's gaze. Gathering herself, she opened her eyes to meet Phoebe's gaze and nodded resolutely, "You're right. We won't."

"Glad to hear it," Darryl said dryly, nodding at the two sisters. "So are you ready to go home then?"

"But what about Chris? And Zankou?" Paige asked hesitantly, not liking the idea of leaving her nephew at such a crucial time. "Shouldn't we stay and help first?"

Darryl shook his head firmly, "Paige – the best help you and your sisters can provide is if you go home and stop this from happening in the first place." His eyes were shadowed as they contemplated the two in front of him, "We'll take care of things on this end."

Seeing the doubt on Paige's face, Phoebe cut in, "No, Paige. Darryl's right. The best way to save Chris, to save Wyatt – is to go back to our time and prevent all this from coming to pass."

Paige sighed, acknowledging the sense in both Darryl's and Phoebe's words, "Piper is not going to like this."

"She'll come around," Phoebe shrugged, not believing a word she said. She frowned, "That reminds me – I haven't seen the two parents for awhile now. Do you think everything's all right?"

Backing out of the room slowly before he revealed more than he should, Darryl tossed over his shoulder on his way out, "Just remember – we're counting on you. Chris is counting on you."

Before she could question Darryl further, he was gone. Frowning at the now empty space in the doorway, Phoebe tried to understand the nagging feeling she was getting in her stomach. There had been something the blonde had said. Something she knew was important…plus, there had been something in Darryl's demeanor…

"Phoebe?"

"Yeah?" Phoebe responded absently, chewing the inside of her mouth. _What had that blonde said about Duncan and Chris?_

"I guess we should go find Piper and Leo," Paige pointed out, waiting.

"Yeah – I guess we should."

* * *

The fear was so intense he felt like throwing up – again. He smiled bitterly as he recalled how Bianca would gently chide him about it, _Nerves, Chris. It's just nerves._

Glancing down at his watch, Chris forced himself to breath evenly. Duncan had only been gone fifteen or so minutes. Hardly enough time for their plan to be put into action.

_But definitely enough time for things to have gone wrong_, Chris worried. He knew from experience that there was nothing he could do but sit and wait. Over the years, he had quickly come to the realization that this was the part of the game that he hated the most. The waiting. The not knowing. Acknowledging that there were things out of even his control.

But it didn't mean he had to like it.

The plan had Duncan glamouring into Phinks and luring Zankou out into the open. There was no way that the pair could take on the demon on his own turf. Above ground, away from the other demons of the Underworld, at least they had a fighting chance. Duncan had had to be the one – Chris, unfortunately, was too weak. Too tired.

Too sick.

_So what makes me think that I can defeat Zankou then?_ Chris wondered sardonically. He didn't have the energy to carry off a glamour spell yet he thought he could still bring down Zankou? Hell, Duncan must have thought he was off his rocker.

Or had a death wish.

Chris grimaced. He hoped Freyna had gotten his message – however, he wouldn't hold his breath. When the valkyrie had her mind set on something it was sheer impossible to persuade her differently. _Oh well, I'll deal with that later…if I have to. Or probably more accurately_, his mouth twisted grimly, _if I'm still alive_.

In his head, he knew it was a lost cause regardless. He and Darryl had talked it over – the best chance any of them had wasn't this half-baked plan to draw Zankou out in the open and kill him. No. The best chance, scratch that, the _only_ chance, was if his mother and her sisters went back to the past and destroyed Excalibur.

However, even as he and Darryl and had acknowledged it, Chris didn't think Sheridan would have taken kindly to the explanation. He could just imagine the expression on Sheridan's face if he tried that - _Sorry, we can't help you with that little valkyrie problem you've been having. But don't worry – everything's under control. Mom's going to go back to the past and stop all this from happening in the first place._

_Yeah, right._

Rotating his shoulder, Chris tried to ignore the ache and pain in his joints, hoping to work out the kinks. Glancing up at the sky, the sun directly above, he briefly wondered where he'd be right now if the future had been saved, if Wyatt hadn't been evil. If his dad had cared about him. If his mom hadn't died young. If the whole world hadn't shot to hell and left him holding the bag feeling like the last kid waiting to be picked for the team. Would he be happy? Would his family be happy? Would they have all been alive?

He tried to wrap his mind around the idea, knowing that when his family went back to the past and if they succeeded in changing the future – that could very well be his life. Chris bit his lower lip thoughtfully. Was it sad then, that he couldn't picture it? That he couldn't picture himself happy?

God, he wanted it so badly. Everything in him burned to see his family whole again. That driving desire was the only thing that kept him on his feet even as longed to lay his head down and rest for just a couple of minutes. To just catch his breathe. And yet, he couldn't see it happening – couldn't picture his family healthy…happy…alive.

_What sick sort of shit is this?_ He thought rather despairingly. _What kind of person am I that I can't see past today?_

The epiphany came to him almost cruelly. Ah, there was the crux of it. Chris' mouth twisted into a sort of grim smile. He couldn't see past today because for him, there wouldn't be a tomorrow.

The air in front of him shimmered – revealing a snivelling Phinks and an angry Zankou and forcing Chris back to the here and now.

_All right, you sick son of a bitch_, Chris thoughts turned fierce as his eyes narrowed at his nemesis. _Let's get this over with. I've got a one way ticket out of here and I'm going to sure as hell make sure you come along for the ride._

* * *

To be continued….

A/N: Could someone either pm me or leave me a note re: Zankou's powers? I realized that I'll probably need to know that for the upcoming chapters! Unfortunately, I didn't watch most of season 7 so I'm a little unclear…thanks in advance!


	17. Chapter 16

A/N: Wow. Has it really been two months since my last post? Apologies – the chapter just wasn't coming out the way I envisioned so I had to start from scratch numerous times. My God – sometimes it feels like I'll never complete this damn thing. However, contrary to my belief, we are heading into the final few chapters. I don't think it will be much longer than 20 chapters, if I even make it to there. Rest assured – I WILL complete this fic…even if it kills me.

Thanks to Sparkling Cherries, zeria, Icantthinkofafnick, charmedtomeetyou, Charmed Ravenclaw, Rosalene, Sabrina, and shyeye for reviewing the last chapter and all of you who've been sticking with me through this long, slow and arduous process.

**The End of All Things**

**Chapter 15 **

* * *

_San Francisco_

"So you think Jeremiah was lying to us? That the whole time he's been working with the demons?" Michael puffed as he jogged alongside his brother. On the other side of D.J., Kyle was walking briskly in an attempt to stay apace with the fast walking Morris son, all the while attempting to look vaguely unruffled. The trio were on their way to the west hall to question Jeremiah one last time before heading out to check out the meeting place the prisoner had used to meet Zankou.

D.J. continued his quick pace, saying brusquely, "I don't know what I think. But I do know we didn't push him hard enough."

Michael shot a glance over D.J.'s head at Kyle as he told his brother doubtfully, "I don't know. I think we pushed him plenty hard yesterday."

D.J. snorted, "Bullshit. That's just what he wanted us to think. That bastard broke his leg and wouldn't let Leo heal him. He's certainly not going to be scared of a couple of bruises that we threatened him with yesterday."

About to open his mouth to argue with his brother, Michael snapped his mouth shut as a pair of men abruptly cut off their path, "What the hell?"

The early morning hour meant that the city streets were fairly quiet and most people at home asleep. The two men, both stocky in nature, wore badges on their upper left sleeve – an indication they were part of what Sheridan had termed her 'neighbourhood watch', a throwback term for sure. The taller of the two men nodded politely at the trio, "Morning. You folks seem to be in an awful hurry."

Resisting the urge to snap back, D.J. smiled weakly, "We're here as guests of Sheridan. Just on our way to see her now."

The human guard dog nodded again, his eyes swiftly moving over the group, obviously assessing the truth of that statement. D.J. almost groaned at the silver of doubt he saw in the man's eyes as he eyes alighted on Kyle warily, "You want to show me your ID cards, please?"

"Look," D.J. attempted to reason with the pair of men, not liking the look in the taller man's eyes as he scanned first D.J.'s and then held out his palm for the others. "We're sort of in a hurry here. We really need to get to city hall – I told you, we're guests of Sheridan!"

"I don't care if you're here as guests of the bloody Pope," the guard retorted. "This will only take a second."

"Oh, for Christ's sakes, you fucking got to be kidding me," Michael groaned, before patting around his pockets. Sighing, but resigned, he produced the plastic card, handing it over to one of the guards. "Happy?"

The other guard, who had been silent up to this point, gave the card a cursory look before nodding politely, "Thank you."

"Well, will you look at this," his companion said softly, reading Kyle's card. "Looks like we've got a live one here." He tapped the card lightly, flipping it towards his partner as his eyes narrowed at Kyle, "Magical being, eh?"

Not liking the guard's tone, D.J. stepped closer to his friend, his shoulder touching Kyle's. D.J.'s soft tone belied the steel underneath, "There a problem?"

"Just trying to keep track of them all," the guard returned evenly. He nodded at his companion, "Jim, why don't you radio it in?"

Nodding, Jim moved to the side, unbuckling his radio from his holster to speak into the unit. "This is unit Alpha Beta Niner. Come in, Checkpoint Charlie. We've got a live one here. Name: Kyle Brody. Request confirmation."

"Unfucking believable," Michael shook his head, flexing his fingers unconsciously as he traded a heated gaze with his brother.

The two guards ignored the trio as the crackle of the radio interrupted. "This is Charlie. We've got a 5-0 on Brody. Checked in this morning. He's golden."

Trading baffled looks amongst each other, D.J. merely raised an eyebrow at his brother and Kyle. As the two guards waved them past, D.J. decided now was not the time to question their good luck and grabbing Kyle's arm hard, dragged him away, resisting the urge to break into a run.

"Ever get the feeling that one of these days we're going to get a response we're not going to like," Michael shot a careful look over his shoulder, noting the two guards were still staring at the trio as they quickly crossed the main square towards city hall.

"Still feel like helping out at the hospital?" D.J. directed at Kyle, his tone laced with acerbic bite.

Kyle sighed, "Let's just question Jeremiah, okay?"

* * *

_Somewhere in the Underworld…_

The witch made his way slowly through the twists and turns of the seemingly maze-like tunnels of the Underworld, crossing his fingers behind his back for luck. Ahead, he could make out the soft glow emanating from a side chamber – ultimately his destination.

After the confrontation with Phinks, Chris and Duncan had moved to the next phase of their plan – somehow involving Duncan to glamour himself as the now vanquished demon informant with the intention of luring Zankou out and away from his demon supporters to the more vulnerable location above world.

All in all, a simple enough plan on paper…at least so it had seemed when they were crafting the initial idea back at headquarters.

Now the execution…well, _that_ was a whole other ball game.

_Somehow I don't think is one of Chris' better ideas_, Duncan sighed to himself. _How did I let myself get talked into this again?_

He could hear voices murmuring in the background as he approached the entrance – meaning Zankou was not alone, making his job all the harder.

_Great_, Duncan thought sourly at the prospect. _Just fucking great. Could this go any worse?_ A pause and then, _I can't believe I just said that. Now I'm screwed for sure._

"Hey! Watch where you're going, you little prick!"

As if on command, Duncan jumped slightly as a demon suddenly rounded the corner, bumping into him and causing him to stumble back against the cavern wall. Rubbing his shoulder, Duncan resisted the urge to vanquish the SOB and tried to react how he imagined the snivelling Phinks would – by glaring balefully at the offender and mumbling half-heartedly, "Sorrys."

The demon's lips pulled back in a condescending sneer, "Didn't hear you there, little man."

Dropping his eyes, Duncan attempted to shuffle past the hulking brute, muttering, "I's gots to go. Don't want no problem."

An arm shot out, effectively blocking Duncan's escape route. The demon grinned evilly, "I think there is."

Hunching his shoulders and trying to look intimidated, Duncan pitched his tone as a whine, "I's gots a meets with Zankou, I do. My lord's 'pecting me, he is." Duncan could see the open debate playing across the demon's features. He decided he could push his luck just a bit, "He'll be mad, he will, if I's delayed."

Snarling, the demon pulled his arm back, allowing Duncan to pass, spitting on the ground as Duncan slipped by timidly, "You ain't worth it."

Nodding in agreement, Duncan scampered away, suppressing his natural inclination to plant his fist in the smirking demon's face and vanquish its sorry ass. Keeping his mind focused on the mission, Duncan quickly left the disturbance behind, ducking into the open chamber ahead.

Firelight climbed the walls, giving off the eerily orangey glow Duncan had used to spot the chamber earlier. Keeping his back to the wall, he assessed the situation silently, taking in as many details as he could.

_Six hostiles, not including the target_, Duncan thought almost absently to himself, as his eyes quickly swept the room. _Ten o'clock, five o'clock and 8 o'clock_, noting their positions relative to himself. _Great, just fucking great. _Wasn't that just becoming his mantra for this mission?

Zankou's back was to him, his voice cultured and chilling as he coolly instructed his demons. There was no sense of failure, no sense of urgency – just a sense that if Zankou wanted it done…it _would_ be done.

One by one the demons received their orders, shimmering out until only Duncan and his mission remained. As he pondered how Phinks would grab the powerful demon's attention, Zankou's voice sliced through the silence, causing Duncan to start involuntarily.

"I thought I told you to watch the humans," Zankou's tone was deadly as he slowly turned around to face what he thought was his snivelling demon. "Are my orders so hard to follow?"

Duncan shook his head frantically, injecting his voice with what he hoped was the right amount of whininess, "No, no. I watched. I dids. But…"

Zankou's right eyebrow quirked upwards as he drawled, "But?"

"Buts I thinks there's be a problem," Duncan stumbled over his words, cursing Phinks for his grammatically challenged speech. Most people had to make a conscious effort to speak accurately, not the other way around. Who knew trying to mimic a low level demon could be such a pain?

"Yes," This time Zankou tapped his foot impatiently, his patience clearly wearing thin as he waited for his informant to spit out his meaning.

"Jeremiah – he says he wants meets with you's," Duncan sniffed loudly, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve, hiding his grin as he saw Zankou look away in disgust. "He says nows. Big troubles. Must sees you's nows."

"Did he say what about?" Zankou said laconically as his eyes narrowed.

Duncan shook his head. He and Chris had agreed to keep the story as vague as possible. Less chance of Zankou catching him on a mistake if he kept the facts hazy. He could tell Zankou was frowning unhappily, the demon obviously reluctant to leave his haven. Struggling with what to say, Duncan tried another tactic, "I thinks he thinks theys know."

"Who knows? And what do they know?" Zankou glared at Duncan, clearly irritated by the piecemeal information he was receiving. "Just spit it out, you pathetic piece of vermin."

Trying to make it look like he was shaking in his boots (which, Duncan thought ruefully, wasn't all that difficult under the current circumstances), Duncan tried again, "I's don't knows. He says, brings you to the spot. We's needs to leave. We's needs to leave, now," Duncan said urgently, wringing his hands desperately. "Yes? Yes?" Duncan felt his stomach clench in fear, unable to read Zankou's guarded expression. Had he pushed too much? Would Phinks have not been so assertive? As the silence stretched uncomfortably, Duncan reached into his back pocket, his fingers curling around the vial that would allow him to teleport and take him to Chris.

Zankou nodded once, before shimmering out. "Very well."

_That was close…too close…_Heaving a sigh of relief, Duncan withdrew the potion vial from his pocket. Throwing down the potion, he grimaced as the smoke swirled up to engulf him, transporting him away.

_All right, Chris. I sure as hell hope you're ready for this. Because God knows we won't have a second chance._

* * *

_The Resistance's Headquarters…_

"Where the _hell_ are Piper and Leo?" Phoebe grumbled, frustrated beyond reason. She and Paige had combed the entire base…twice. And still, nothing. She grimaced as she realized she had now passed the same hall three times in the last hour. "Are you sure you can't sense them?"

Paige stopped abruptly, her hand shooting out to grab Phoebe's arm to halt their progress in the hall. "Nothing. Phoebe, face it. If I can't sense them, then they have to be in the Underworld. That's the only place where I wouldn't be able to get a lock on them."

Phoebe dismissed the suggestion with a quick shake of her head, "No. No way. Piper would never go down into the Underworld by herself. She knows better than that."

"Even if it meant saving her son?" Paige said sceptically. "You know Piper when it comes to her kids. Her judgment gets cloudy."

"Even if what you're saying is true, Leo would know better. He wouldn't let her go down there without us. No," Phoebe began to pace back and forth in front of her sister. "No, they have to still be on base. Maybe you can't sense them because of some sort of spell."

"I don't know," Paige replied doubtfully. "I mean, it would have to be a pretty powerful spell to block my whitelighter sense."

"Well, maybe…maybe it's not a spell on us," Phoebe began to think out loud. "Maybe…maybe it's a spell on them – making it hard for us to find them."

"Let's say you're right, how are we going to find them?" Paige asked exasperated, throwing her arms in the air. "We've been up and down every hallway in this damn place, calling out their names."

Phoebe snapped her fingers, "Then we search every room."

"Every room?" Paige groaned. "Phoebe, there are hundreds of rooms in this place!"

"Well, we know the two were going to talk to Chris right? Let's start there, and maybe work our way back," Phoebe suggested. Seeing the doubtful hesitation in Paige's face, Phoebe offered, "Hey, it's a start at least, right?"

"Right."

* * *

_San Francisco_

_Ungrateful lout_, Michael grimaced, staring at their prisoner from across the room. _What the hell is his problem?_ The trio had managed to persuade Sheridan to let them speak with Jeremiah once again. Grumbling about inconvenience and how didn't they just do that yesterday, Sheridan had given in rather ungraciously – with the provisio that Kyle do some healing.

_It was the least he could do_, Sheridan had pointed out dryly.

He knew he was being petty, but Michael hadn't wanted to agree to anything. After all, the son of bitch had murdered their friend…hell, he'd murdered Sheridan's friend Elise! But all he had gotten for pointing that out was a narrow eyed look from the former red-headed inspector. _He's a human being_, Sheridan had shot Michael a warning look. _In my book, that means he's still entitled to medical treatment – or in this case, whitelighter healing._

Before the discussion could descend into another argument on the rather questionable statement of whether Jeremiah was entitled to medical treatment (or any thing at all, in Michael's book), D.J. had cut him off neatly to agree with Sheridan's request. D.J.'s sharp look had clearly said to Michael that he didn't give a rat's ass what Michael thought – they were here to do a job, and if D.J. had to bargain with the devil himself, he'd sell his soul and Michael's too to finish it.

So rather than argue with his brother further (Michael knew that stubborn look on his brother's face better than anyone), he'd sighed and settled for glaring down his nose at the object of his contempt.

The lout in question was currently levelling a baleful glare at the Morris brothers and their whitelighter friend. His lips curled in a sneer, "I told you before, I don't need any of your patsy white-ass healing me."

"Look," D.J.'s voice held a touch of impatience. "I really don't care what you want. I think you're under the mistaken impression that I give a shit." Leaning down so that his nose practically touched Jeremiah's, "I want to know everything you know and to do that, I've agreed to let my friend here heal you. So shut up, sit back and let him do his work."

Motioning over his shoulder at Kyle to come closer, D.J. began to back away when Jeremiah suddenly leapt up from the table, shoving his chair back violently. The metal furniture hit the back wall with a _bang!_ as the man held his hands up to ward off the whitelighter, "You don't touch me, you fuck! I told you, stay the hell away from me!"

"Jeremiah!" Sheridan's tone cut across the room sharply. "He's just trying to help you! For God's sake! Your leg is broken! Just let the whitelighter do his work, would you?"

His eyes wild, Jeremiah looked from face to face and seeing no escape, his face began to redden alarmingly, "I told you before – stay away from me! Don't you touch me, you dumb fuck!"

Irritated as hell and wanting nothing more than to get on with it, Michael snapped. Pushing himself away from the wall where he'd been so casually leaning against, he closed the distance between himself and Jeremiah in a few short steps. As Jeremiah's face swung in his direction, Michael shot his arm out and with a quick _snap!_, sucker punched the other man across the chin.

Jeremiah dropped wordlessly to the floor.

Ignoring the chiding look Kyle was shooting him, Michael massaged his knuckles lightly, "He's all yours."

Kneeling down next to the prone man, Kyle rolled his eyes slightly, "Thanks. I think."

"Was that really necessary?" Sheridan demanded, her arms crossed over her chest, her tone a touch hostile.

"Only if we wanted to leave this hellhole sometime today," Michael retorted, swallowing an even nastier reply that'd been on the tip of his tongue.

As Sheridan opened her mouth to continue the argument, "Look, you –,"

"Uh, guys?"

Michael's eyebrow rose, hearing the insult in Sheridan's tone, "You want to say something to me?" He shoved at his brother who tried to step between the two.

"Uh, guys?"

"Where the _hell_ do you get off?" Sheridan uncrossed her arms, taking on akimbo pose. "The last time I looked, _I_ was still in charge here…"

"Guys!"

Three startled faces turned towards a rather adamant whitelighter. Blinking, D.J. was the first to recover, "Kyle? What's wrong?"

Kyle pulled back his glowing hands and stood up, his eyes still boring into the unconscious body of Jeremiah, "I can't heal him."

"What?" Sheridan asked, confused. "What do you mean, you can't heal him? I mean, aren't whitelighters suppose to be able to heal all humans?"

Kyle bit his lip, "Exactly."

"Which means," Michael whispered as understanding dawned.

"That Jeremiah…" D.J. continued, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Is a demon," Kyle finished flatly.

* * *

Swallowing nervously, Chris steadied himself mentally – using a technique that his fiancé had taught him long ago. He blocked out all distractions, his world narrowing to himself and Zankou, everything else fading to the background. He let his senses bubble forth – sight and sound honed to deadly focus. His fist clenched involuntarily as he stepped out from his position, his eyes glaring daggers at the back of the demon's head.

"Phinks?" Zankou's voice was annoyed. "What the hell? Where is Jeremiah?"

"I don't think he's going to make it…" Chris' voice carried across the clearing. "But I'm sure he passes along his regrets."

Slowly, Zankou turned to face Chris. The demon's lip curled in contempt, "You? You really think you can take me?"

Chris' gaze was steady, his voice and stance projecting all the confidence he wished he felt, "Me."

* * *

_The Resistance's Headquarters…_

Piper threw up her hands to blow up the cage again. She could feel her temper rising incrementally as the electrical bars bent but didn't break. "I can't believe he did this!" Piper stormed at the unmitigated _gall_ of her youngest son. "How dare he! I mean, how _dare_ he!"

"Piper…" Leo tried to interrupt.

"Who does he think he is? Who does he think _I_ am? I'm a Charmed One, for God's sakes! If anyone can vanquish a demon, it's me!" Piper's eyes were dark with anger fuelled by the fear that her son was probably, even now, facing off against an enemy he didn't have a hope in hell of defeating. "What the HELL does he think he's doing?"

"He's trying to protect us," Leo grasped at Piper's hands, bringing them together and holding them against his chest. "He's trying to protect you." Seeing the unshed tears in Piper's eyes, Leo gentled his voice, "Piper – stop. You've been trying to blow up the cage for hours now. It's not going to work."

"Than what do you want me to do, Leo?" Piper jerked her hands free from Leo's to swipe angrily at her eyes. "I can't just sit here, Leo. _I can't._ Not when our son needs us…"

"Look, I don't like the situation any more than you do, but there's nothing we can do. Hopefully someone will come along…"

"And what if they don't?" Piper demanded. "Leo – for all we know, Chris could be dead!"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Leo shook his head. "No. No, he's not, Piper. He's _not_."

"How can you be so sure?" Piper sniffed.

"Because I'd feel it here," Leo brought his hand up to his heart and placed his other hand over hers. "And you would too."

Rubbing at her reddening nose, Piper glared at her husband. There was only so much whitelighter mumbo jumbo she could stomach. After all the years they'd been together, she figured she'd been pretty patient so far. Opening her mouth to retort that the only thing she could feel were the electrical bars of the cage, her mouth snapped shut as the door burst open, "Phoebe?"

"Oh thank God we found you guys! We've been looking all over for you!" Phoebe babbled, rushing forward with Paige right on her heels. She stopped abruptly as she realized there was a magical cage in front of her, "Why are you guys in there?"

"Don't worry about that – just get us out of here!" Piper demanded. She pointed at the various crystals around the room. "We've got to get to Chris!"

Quickly grasping the situation, with a wave of her hand Paige called for the crystals. The cage disappeared as the crystals reappeared in her open palm. She stared at them curiously, "Man, these must be pretty powerful if they can hold your powers, Piper."

"Find Chris now, be Magic School professor later," Piper snapped at her sister, her eyes swinging to her husband who's eyes were currently closed. "Well?" Piper tapped her foot impatiently.

Leo's eyes popped open, "I think I've got a lock on him. It's faint – but steady."

"Thank God," Piper nearly collapsed in relief. Grabbing her husband's arm, she commanded, "Let's go. Now." And as if in afterthought, she glanced over at her two open mouthed sisters as she disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs, "Follow us!"

Shooting a puzzled look at Phoebe, Paige shrugged and grabbing her sister's hand, muttered, "Don't look at me. Apparently, I'm just the chauffeur."

* * *

Zankou sneered, "You're more foolish than I thought."

"And you talk too much," Chris replied evenly, his eyes never leaving his opponents. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a puff of smoke as Duncan, glamoured as Phinks, appeared. He didn't even bother turning his head, sensing his friend fall into position behind him, "About time you got here."

Duncan shrugged, "Sorry."

Zankou's eyes widened slightly, before narrowing shrewdly, "You're not Phinks."

"Nope," Duncan nodded, releasing the glamour spell to resume his natural appearance. "Thank God."

"That little…" Zankou sighed, almost indulgently. "He's outlived his usefulness to me anyways."

"Such concern," Chris mocked, his heart beating a mile a minute, trying not to betray his nervousness. _What the fuck? Were they going to play this game all day?_ He had never been good at the waiting part. Bianca had always warned him about that – _wait for it, Chris. You're too impatient. Impatience leads to mistakes…and when it's a matter of life or death, you can't afford mistakes. Not even one…because one mistake could be your last._

Zankou shrugged, "I never liked that pathetic waste of space – he didn't deserve to be even associated with me, let alone be a demon." He eyed Chris and nodded lazily at Duncan, "Hardly seems fair – two against one."

"Fuck you," Chris replied coldly. Rules of engagement went out the window when dealing with demons – at least in Chris' mind. You couldn't trust them to follow the rules so why should you?

"Your parents would be proud," Zankou chided softly, slowly circling the young witch and his friend. He continued to provoke, "Such honour."

"A little calling the kettle black, you don't think?" Chris shot back, eyes following Zankou's every movement. His back protected by Duncan, Chris let his shoulders settle, his stance casual but fighting ready.

Zankou smiled almost gleefully, "I _am_ a demon."

And without a word of warning, the demon's hand shot out, the fireball barrelling towards Chris within seconds.

_Shit!_

Pushing Duncan out of the way, Chris tucked and rolled to the side, the heat of the fireball grazing his neck. Jumping lithely to his feet, he could feel the sweat beading on his forehead as he faced his opponent again.

Zankou smiled evilly, "Nice move."

With a blur, the demon shot his arm out again, the energy ball this time whipping towards Chris with lightening speed. This time, Duncan pushed _him_ out of the way, the two of them clumsily tumbling backwards.

The demon laughed heartily, his hands gesturing left and right as energy and fireballs alike shot forward.

"Move!" Chris shoved at Duncan, the hairs on his neck rising as the two friends narrowly missed being hit again. Scarcely dodging another attack, Chris cursed – the demon's firepower was too much too fast. They barely had time to anticipate the next attack and move away before another was upon them, let alone stand and mount their own attack.

"Chris! Down!" Duncan shouted a warning.

A hard shove and Chris was eating dirt. Before he could roll to his feet, he heard the sickening cry from his friend as Duncan collapsed on the ground next to him.

"Duncan?" Chris' voice trembled as he looked at his fallen friend. Duncan opened his eyes blearily, his mouth moving but no sound emerging. Chris felt his throat dry, "Duncan?"

"Another one bites the dust, eh?" Zankou chuckled. "How many is that now?"

"You _bastard_," Chris bared his teeth and all rational thought left his brain. Anger and frustration artificially fuelled his burst of speed and leaping to his feet, he barrelled towards the demon.

_FUCK!_

* * *

"Christ! Are you telling me he's been a demon all this time?" Sheridan asked, aghast. "Hell, I knew Jeremiah from even before the war started."

"Not a demon, per se," Kyle shook his head. "It feels…different. I think he's possessed."

D.J. exchanged a look with his brother, "Like a phantasm?"

Kyle nodded solemnly.

"Fucking bastard lied to us…" Michael murmured, his mind going over yesterday's interview. Remembering Les, Michael felt his anger renew, "Son of a bitch!" Two short steps and he was within reach of the unconscious body – he yanked Jeremiah upwards, giving the possessed human a violent shake, "Wake up, you fucking asshole!"

With a groan, Jeremiah's eyes opened. As he looked at his audience, the phantasm realized the gig was up. He hissed, "Stupid humans…"

"Who are you calling stupid?" Michael was livid, Les' death still so fresh. Grappling with his emotions, Michael glared into the black eyes of the possessed human, "I don't think you understand your position here. You pissed off the valkyries – one of the most powerful beings around. If anyone's stupid, it's you."

The demon wearing Jeremiah's features smirked, "Even if the valkyries know about me, it doesn't change anything. Humans are weak. It's in your nature to prey on each other – I merely helped to focus the efforts," the demon laughed heartily. "Now that the idea has taken seed…"

D.J. snorted, "I don't think you give us enough credit."

"No?" the demon jerked its head in Sheridan's direction. "Do you really think that even after you tell the valkyries about me that they'll welcome you with open arms? That the humans will accept that it was all a misunderstanding? If you do, then you don't understand your own nature – human nature."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Sheridan returned hotly, her eyes blazing with indignation.

"Oh please," the demon scoffed. "Humans are so predictable. You always fear what you don't understand – in this case magic. And fear always leads to violence. Do you really think I could have mustered so much hatred if it hadn't already been there, bubbling beneath the surface?" His lips pulled back in a sneer, "You give me too much credit. I merely helped things along its natural path."

"Go to hell," Sheridan spat, her eyes burning now with rage.

"You first," the demon smiled evilly. "Like I said – humans…so pathe – oof!" His words were abruptly cut off as Kyle clipped the demon's jaw with a swift uppercut, the demon once again dropping to the floor unconscious.

Flexing his fingers, Kyle tore his gaze away from the unconscious demon to meet three pairs of surprised eyes. He blinked innocently, "What? Sorry – sometimes I have an involuntary twitch."

D.J. was the first to recover from the shock of seeing his normally calm and collected friend from cold cocking a demon. His right eyebrow shot upwards questioningly, "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

As Kyle shrugged nonchalantly, Michael could feel the corners of his mouth turn up, "That's got to be the smartest thing you've done all day."

Sheridan cleared her throat, "As much as I'm enjoying this display of…male bonding, I think we've got bigger problems."

Michael quickly sobered, "Chris."

Kyle nodded, "He doesn't know Jeremiah's possessed – nor do the valkyries."

"You need to get Ben and get that phantasm out of Jeremiah," D.J. pointed at Kyle. "And we need to tell Chris. Maybe we won't need to worry about the valkyries anymore after we explain everything."

"All right. I'll head back. What about you guys? You coming with me?" Kyle began to head towards the door, with the Morris brothers and Sheridan on his heels.

D.J. shook his head, "I still want to get a look at that clearing, the one where Jeremiah…I mean, the phantasm…said he was meeting Zankou."

Sheridan shut the door to the cell, eyeing it warily. "I'm going to stay here. Keep an eye on things until Kyle comes back and de-possesses Jeremiah."

"You really shouldn't do that alone," D.J. frowned.

Sheridan shook her head, "No worries. Send Greg and Dan in on your way out, will you? They should have arrived for their morning shift a half hour ago."

"Will do," Michael tilted his chin towards his brother, "So Kyle goes back to base, Sheridan stands guard here and we go investigate that clearing outside?"

"Sounds like a plan," D.J. nodded at his friends. "We'll meet you back here in an hour."

* * *

Every nerve ending burned, screaming out in unbearable pain as the bright light exploded in his brain. Behind his eyelids, lights exploded like fireworks and he fell to his knees, his breath leaving him as the pressure on his chest crushed him._Son of a bitch_…was all Chris could think, curling in on his side protectively. He could feel tears of pain seeping through his eyes, running down his face and tasted the saltiness on his lips. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to open his eyes only to find Zankou standing over him gloatingly. 

"Foolish child. Did you really think you stood a chance?"

Chris closed his eyes against the pain, trying to block out the demon's voice. _Gotta move_…His body was rigid and trembling, every muscle screaming for him to roll out of the way.

"Get away from him!"

The shout came from the edge of the clearing. Forcing his eyes open, Chris watched in alarm as the Morris brothers came rushing into the area. He coughed weakly, blood sputtering forth as he tried to make his mouth work, "D.J. Michael – no…"

Drawing their weapons, Michael and D.J. let loose with gunfire. The demon laughed, before waving a hand in the general direction of the two humans. A burst of orange and the fireball shot towards them.

A warning shout…from D.J.?…was all Chris heard before the gunfire resumed. He could only guess that the brothers had gotten out of the way in time and were returning fire, however futile, in order to buy him time.

Even with his eyes closed, Chris could feel Zankou's shadow over him, blocking out the midday sun as the demon stood arrogantly over his prone body while dealing with his friends. _What now, Bianca?_ Panic and fear surged through him, causing him to temporarily freeze. As always, Chris beat it back through sheer willpower, using the adrenaline surging through his veins to give him more strength than he knew he normally had. It was an old trick – something Bianca had taught him many moons ago.

He could hear her now, feel her guiding his hand.

_Don't let the fear control you, Chris_, she'd say. _Use it to your advantage. A healthy dose of fear can make you move that little bit faster, that tiny bit quicker. Wield it like you would any weapon – take no prisoners._

That little bit of ruthlessness, that matter of fact advice – it had saved Chris on more than one occasion.

_Christ, Chris_, he berated himself mentally. _Move! Move! Move!_ He pushed past the pain, ignoring his screaming muscles and forced himself to dive to his left, tucking into a neat roll before unfolding quickly to his feet all in a fluid motion.

"Have you mortals learned nothing from our war? Bullets don't harm us," Zankou sneered, completely unaware that Chris was now standing threateningly behind him.

"No, but swords do," Chris' voice cut in just before he plunged Excalibur deep.

"No," Zankou whispered, almost wonderingly. "It can't be."

The Morris brothers had distracted the demon's attention away from Chris long enough for the young leader of the Resistance to summon Excalibur.

Gritting his teeth, Chris summoned all his strength and thrust the sword down, _hard_. He could feel the soft flesh of the demon give way to the steel of the sword, like a hot knife through butter. He glanced up, catching Zankou's look of genuine surprise.

Chris jerked the sword free, "Bite _that_, you ass." Yelping, Chris let go of the sword, nearly setting himself on fire as flames exploded forth, engulfing the demon.

_LIGHT!_

The sword dropped to the ground with a _THUD!_

"Chris!"

_Christ_…was Chris' final thoughts before the darkness rose up to claim him.

* * *

Throwing her arms up to protect her eyes, she was a touch too slow and the brilliant white light blinded her. Blinking rapidly, Piper tried to clear her vision, still seeing bright spots. Reaching out blindly for her husband, she asked, "Leo? I can't see anything."

"Here," Leo answered, his voice coming from her right. "I can't see yet either."

"I think I'm blind!" Phoebe exclaimed. Her voice caused Piper to start involuntarily who didn't expect her sister to be standing _right_ behind her.

"What the hell just happened?" Paige demanded, her voice sounding like it was coming from several metres behind Piper.

"I'm not sure," Piper began as the spots began to give way to vague shapes and colours. "I'm just starting to get my vision back."

Shaking her vision clear, Piper blinked again as the colourful blobs finally took shape, lines and colours suddenly sharpening. In the back of her mind, she registered the tall fence in the near distance as the city's walls while her eyes searched and found her goal.

There, laying in the middle of the scorched earth of the clearing, lay her son.

"Chris!"

To be continued…


	18. Chapter 17

A/N: This chapter went up a little faster since the last one because (1) the majority of it had been written awhile ago, mainly way back when I first started the fic and (2) it's a touch shorter than usual – just FYI: the next chapter will take a little longer since I haven't written any of it!

Thanks to all who left me such lovely encouragement: Zeria, charmedtomeetyou, Charmed Ravenclaw, shyeye, Icantthinkoffnick, mjp3, YamiTsubasa, Sabrina, Sparkling Cherries. If it weren't for you guys, I would never sit in front of the computer and type.

**

* * *

The End of All Things **

**Chapter 17**

* * *

"I still can't believe that Jeremiah was possessed," D.J. grumbled as the two brothers dashed across the courtyard to head for the northern gate. "I mean, come on! Isn't that the first thing we should have looked for? I mean, how clichéd can you get?"

Michael didn't bother answering, knowing no response was required. Yes, they had been foolish. They'd assumed the world was still following the rules from before the war – exposing magic by either good or evil was frowned upon. But the world wasn't that way anymore, and it hadn't been for a long time. Just because Wyatt was gone, it didn't mean things would return to the way they were. More fool them that they thought it could.

Though they'd gotten an early start that morning, the position of the sun clearly looked to be well into the afternoon. The sun overhead beat down relentlessly, and Michael could feel the perspiration beading on his forehead. Within minutes, they had passed through the gates, shrugging off the border guards' questioning easily – their id cards that clearly marked them as humans _sans_ magic giving them a free pass.

Jogging now, the two brothers' followed the perimeter of the city walls, heading towards the small clearing on the east side that the phantasm (as Jeremiah) had previously mentioned. About a hundred yards out D.J. came to an abrupt stop, causing Michael to bump into him from behind.

Biting off a curse, D.J. shoved his brother down, dropping onto the ground next to him, "Get down!"

"What the –," was all Michael got out before he saw the reason for his brother's strange actions. Ahead, Chris and Duncan were clearly locked in a battle to the death as they dodged fireballs and energy balls alike. Michael gaped at the figure's whose back was to them, his voice hushed with surprise, "Is that Zankou?"

"Who do you think?" D.J. snapped, his attention focused on the scene unfolding in front of them.

"We've got to help them!" Michael exclaimed, starting to get to his feet. He fell back abruptly as D.J. yanked him back down, protesting, "D.J.!"

"What are we going to do, you idiot?" D.J. shot at his brother. "That's a magical battle going on down there. How the hell do you think we're going to help?"

"We can't just sit around here and do nothing!" Michael yanked his arm back. He winced as he watched his friends barely dodge the magical missiles. "Those are our friends!"

"No one said we weren't going to do nothing," D.J. reached around to his back, slowly pulling the concealed weapon from his waistband. "But running into a fight half cocked isn't going to help them. We have to wait for the right moment."

Michael shook his head, "I never thought I'd say this, but it's not like our guns are going to have any effect on that demon. You mind letting me in on what you're thinking?"

Checking his clip, D.J. slammed it back into the chamber before saying, "I'm thinking the best we can help Chris is cause a distraction…get them back into the game. You ready to do this?"

Michael flinched at the steely eye look his brother levelled at him. Was he ready to do this? _Not by a long shot._ Fear clawed at his throat – not an unfamiliar feeling but unwelcome all the same. As a scout and a long time member of Chris' close knit circle of friends, Michael was well aware of the hazards of their 'profession', so to speak. He never thought he'd live _forever_ but still…it wasn't like he ever thought he'd die either. Hell - this was _Zankou_ they were about to seriously piss off. Not some low level phantasm. Not even some angry mob. This was the big time. Guns were useless – all they could do was buy Chris some time and hope to God their friend would finish the job. Michael knew it was now or never. His friends were counting on him… He cracked a travesty of a grin, his voice trembling slightly betraying his fear despite his best efforts, "Lead on. Age before beauty, after all."

D.J. nodded solemnly, his hand coming up to squeeze Michael's shoulder. No more words were exchanged – none were necessary. With a final glance in his brother's direction, D.J. suddenly rose up, gun blazing, shouting, "Get away from him!"

Running after his brother, his own pistol gleaming in the sunlight, Michael could only think…

_Fuck forever…_

* * *

He knew it before he did it. 

There was no way the clash of two such powerful magics, Zankou's and the sword's, wouldn't result in a backlash of power.

_I guess I should have known better_, Chris thought ruefully, almost laughing aloud at the inanity of his own thoughts at such a critical time.

But really, had there been any other choice?

In that fraction of a second, before he plunged Excalibur into the demon, Chris knew there wasn't.

At least, not any choice that didn't end up all of them dying.

He practically hissed his satisfaction.

"Bite _that_, you ass."

Intense heat and light ricocheted outwards from the collision of fire and pure energy, causing Chris to drop the sword instinctively. As the light blinded him, he threw all his remaining magical energy into a shield, hoping against hope that it would be enough to protect his friends.

LIGHT! 

He bore the full brunt of it – the fire, the heat…the _backlash_ of power. It slammed into him like a Mack truck, stealing his breath, overloading his optic nerves and frying what little he had left of his nerve endings.

It _hurt_.

He wasn't even aware of hitting the ground, or the sound of running feet or his name being called across the clearing.

"Chris!"

_Mom?_ He struggled weakly for a second, desperately willing his eyes to open.

Shit.

It hurt _bad_…

Stubbornly, his eyes refused to open. He wanted to cry out in frustration. He wanted to answer that voice, answer that desperate call of his name but all he could do was lay twitching involuntarily in pain on the hard, _burning_ ground.

He could feel the heat through his back, searing his flesh. Tears of fear and pain seeped beneath his eyelids but wouldn't flow over, searing his eyeballs with a sharp, stinging pain.

The darkness swirled up to claim him and suddenly, the pain seemed to dissipate.

_Mom…I'm so sorry…_

* * *

"_Did you pick up the eggs?"_

_Chris shook his head, vaguely wondering where the voice was coming from…What the hell? He was standing in what appeared to be a living room, sounds of pots and pans banging together drifting in from what he suspected was the kitchen._

"_Chris!" the voice insisted, female and very annoyed. "Did you forget the eggs? We've got less than an hour till dinner when our guests arrive."_

"_Uhhh…" still confused, Chris raised his hand to scratch his head only to realize he was holding a plastic bag. _

_The owner of the female voice suddenly appeared from the kitchen. Flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder, Bianca quickly stepped forward to take the bag from Chris' unresisting hands, "Oh thank God. I swear, I'm about to have a nervous break down. I should have known you'd remember." Another step forward and she kissed his cheek lightly, "Thanks."_

_Still not understanding what was happening, he nodded absently, following behind his beloved as she re-entered the kitchen. He wondered if it was a spell – maybe one of those illusions where he was trapped in an alternate universe of his desires._

_Unpacking the groceries, Bianca tossed a look at him over her shoulder, "Are you okay?"_

"_I, uh…" Chris fumbled, not really knowing how to respond. Maybe something along the lines of 'No, actually, I'm not okay – I think this is all a fantasy and you're not real.'_ _He could imagine _that_ going over well._

_Coming closer, Bianca reached out to press her hand against Chris' forehead. She frowned worriedly, "You don't feel hot."_

_Deciding to savour the moment for what it was (it had been so long, after all), Chris grabbed her hand before she could pull it away. He brought it to his mouth to kiss her palm tenderly, "Thanks for caring."_

_She grinned, pulling her hand free and giving him a playful shove, "None of that now! Your brother is going to be here any minute – we are NOT going to start something we can't finish."_

_Chris suddenly grinned back, his apprehensions disappearing as he found himself caught up in Bianca's smile. 'She always did have the most beautiful smile…Did? I mean, does…' Shaking his head clear of his murky thoughts, he focused on the object of his affection. He waggled his eyes wickedly, "Who says we can't finish?"_

_Laughing, she backed away, turning her back on him, "Oh no! I'm still basting the chicken and I've got to get the appetizers into the oven…"_

_Lost in the wonderful feeling of domesticity, Chris closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He squeezed her tightly, whispering huskily in her ear, "Are you sure?"_

"_Am I sure about what?" Bianca whispered breathily as Chris nibbled on her ear. Unable to help herself, she turned in his arms to face him, pulling his head down for a long, heated, passionate kiss._

_The doorbell suddenly rang._

_Almost guiltily, Bianca gasped, springing back from Chris and breaking their embrace, her voice clearly panicked, "Oh God! They're early!"_

"_Probably a good thing," Chris sighed reluctantly, running his fingers through his mussed hair. _

"_Get the door, will you sweetie?" Bianca had already turned back to the oven, her attention back on cooking dinner._

_As the doorbell rang again, Chris quickly hurried to the front door. Flinging it wide, he raised his right eyebrow in question, "Aren't you early?"_

_The blond haired witch grinned as he motioned his wife to enter ahead of him. "Isn't your shirt untucked?"_

_Scowling at his brother, Chris blushed slightly and hastily tucked in the offending garment. He nodded at his sister-in-law, "Seriously, I have no idea what you see in this guy."_

_She laughed, reaching up to give Chris a peck on the cheek, "He has a couple of good points. You just have to look for them." Giving her coat to Wyatt to take care of, she quickly excused herself to head to the kitchen to offer Bianca a hand._

"_Yeah," a male voice said dryly. "Like with a telescope." Les stepped inside the hall, nodding at Chris. "Thanks for inviting me over for dinner – I haven't had a home cooked meal in ages."_

"_Any friend of Wyatt's is a friend of mine," Chris smiled at his brother's partner. Les was Wyatt's first partner on the force – the policeman a close friend of Darryl's as well. A witch himself, Les had been quickly accepted into the Halliwell's circle of friends. The fact that he was a witch as well made the burden of keeping Wyatt's secret easier for Chris' brother. Chris frowned as he realized D.J., Darryl's son and the Halliwell brothers' close friend, was not with them. "I thought D.J. was coming with you guys as well."_

"_Like you said, we're early," Wyatt shrugged nonchalantly, plopping down on the nearby couch and making himself at home. "We clocked out as soon as we could before Darryl could throw another case file at us. D.J. wasn't quite as quick – he said he should be here in under an hour though and that we could get started without him if we wanted."_

_Chris shook his head, "Nah. Let's wait. Besides, I don't think dinner's ready yet. Bianca just about had a fit when the doorbell went."_

_Putting his feet up on the coffee table, Wyatt quickly used his telekinesis to grab the t.v. remote. Within seconds, the t.v. was on, and the blonde began to flip through the channels with lightening speed. "How about a beer, baby bro?"_

_Glancing over at Les who nodded as well, Chris headed to the kitchen, cuffing the back of his brother's head lightly as he passed behind the couch, "Feet off the table, jerk. Bianca doesn't like it when you do that."_

"_Man, you are whipped," Wyatt grumbled, rubbing the back of his head._

_Les chortled, "This from the man who had to buy tampons at the store yesterday."_

_Unable to hear Wyatt's retort as he nipped into the kitchen, Chris laughed to himself. Smiling at his fiancé and his sister-in-law, he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge before blowing a kiss at Bianca on his way out. She rolled her eyes slightly, but nonetheless continued her conversation with Wyatt's wife._

_Handing a beer to his brother and another to Les, Chris twisted the top off of his own. Taking a long drag of the cool liquid, he looked over at his friend who was studying him quietly. Glancing at Wyatt, who was completely engrossed in the football game, Chris nodded at Les, "Something wrong?"_

_Hesitation appeared on Les' face._

_Chris cocked his eyebrow in Les' direction, "Spill. What's up?"_

"_I don't…I don't think I'm suppose to be here," Les whispered. "I don't…I don't think this is…right."_

_An unexplainable cold fear clutched at Chris' heart. Hadn't something seemed off earlier? Before he'd gone to the store? No. It was just his imagination…right? Chris shook his head, "What…what do you mean?"_

_Les' voice was low, obviously not wanting to draw Wyatt's attention, "I don't…I don't know, Chris. It's just…something…doesn't feel right."_

_About to open his mouth to dismiss his friend's concerns, images flashed through Chris' head. Images of Bianca dying, Les dying, fighting demons, burning houses, Wyatt dying by his hand…Excalibur…Feelings of doubt…fear…PAIN! Chris doubled over. It wasn't right…it was never right…_

"_Chris?" Wyatt's voice was worried as he leapt up from the couch to cross quickly over to his brother's side. "Chris, what's going on?"_

_Still bent over, Chris raised his head, locking eyes with Les and oblivious to everything else around, "It's supposed to be this way, isn't?" Chris asked, a little desperately._

_Les smiled sadly, "Yeah. Yeah, I think it is…"_

* * *

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. 

The brilliant flash of white light blinding her, the stillness in the air making it difficult to breathe – it all contributed to a sense of…_nothingness_.

And then, when Piper was ready to collapse from the lack of air, something _lurched_…

And time resumed its normal pace.

She blinked the spots away, her heart thundering in her chest – she and Leo had orbed in time to see Chris thrust Excalibur through Zankou's chest. And then her senses had been thrown to the wind, everything in her world going temporarily topsy-turvy until it snapped back into place.

She ignored the muted groans from her sisters, her eyes frantically sweeping the landscape before her, searching for her son whom she caught that brief glimpse of before everything had gone white.

She took in the scorched earth…the small _crater_ created by the clash of power…the dying flames from the demon vanquish licking the sides of the burnt circle in the ground.

Her heart stopped as she realized the crumpled, still form lying in the centre was her son.

And for a moment she froze – paralysed at the sight of his still body, his face turned away from hers, his arms twisted above his head and his chest seemingly unmoving.

_My baby…_

"Chris!"

She was running towards him even before she finished the thought, tripping over herself as she rushed to his side. She was vaguely aware of Leo's hoarse shout and the sound of his running feet pounding behind her. She sank to her knees, ignoring the cloud of dust that threatened to choke her breath and the unnatural heat of the scorched earth as she skidded into the ground next to her son.

She gently laid his head in her lap, brushing the dirt away from his face. Still unconscious, he lay unmoving in her embrace. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice quavering, "Chris?"

His bleary eyes opened and looked up at her, "Mom?"

For a moment, she couldn't speak. His green eyes, always so brilliant, were dull and lifeless with pain. Her smile was watery as she desperately tried to swallow her fears, her voice husky with tears, "I'm here, baby."

"I was dreaming…Bianca, Les…" Chris' voice trailed off, as if lost in thought.

"What did you dream, baby?" Piper asked gently, the lump in her throat growing.

"We were having dinner…Wyatt…"

She heard the hint of wonder in his voice. "What? What about Wyatt?" Piper prompted, doing anything to keep him awake. Piper threw a desperate glance at Leo who was gently extending his hands over Chris' form.

Chris closed his eyes, ignoring her by answering her question with one of his own, "Did we do it? Is Zankou…gone?"

Piper could feel the tears well up in her eyes as she tried to joke pathetically, "What do you think?"

A pause and then, "I'm glad."

Uncertain, Piper's voice faltered, "Chris?"

"I…I didn't want to…die and leave unfinished…business," Chris' voice was barely a whisper.

"Don't you dare!" Piper commanded fiercely, the tears spilling over and running down her face. "Don't you _dare_ talk like that, young man. You promised. You promised me everything would be okay." Her voice broke, "Don't you dare break your promise to me."

Chris' voice was weak, "I didn't. I won't. Because I know you'll fix things."

She could feel her heart crumple at the blind faith Chris was clinging to. Rather than answering him, she swallowed and looked at Leo in desperation. "Is it working?" Piper asked her husband anxiously as Leo frowned in concentration. The golden glow from his hands shone brightly, but it didn't seem to make any visible improvement in Chris' condition. "Leo?"

Leo shook his head, "I…I don't know, Piper."

Propping him up, Piper supported Chris against her as much as possible, letting him heavily lean on her like a dead weight. His skin felt cold and clammy; his lips were so dry they were cracked and bleeding. With every breath he took, she could hear a slight weezing from his chest. About to demand Leo tell her what was wrong, Piper's mouth snapped shut at the soft sound Chris emitted from his throat.

"Bianca?" Chris asked weakly, his eyes focused on something just beyond the horizon.

Looking over her shoulder in the direction that Chris was staring in, Piper could only see the setting sun, the orange sky and the ravaged landscape. But no Bianca. She gently touched her hand to her son's shoulder, "Chris?"

"Don't you see her?" his voice was a whisper. "She's standing right there…"

His eyes remained locked on something only he could see. Piper's heart swelled painfully as she watched him smile uncertainly. _God, he looks so happy!_ Her eyes filling with tears, she glanced up at Leo, who was silently shaking his head, "Honey. Chris. Stay with me."

Struggling to sit up, Chris ignored the shooting pain screaming through his body. He smiled weakly, his eyes unwavering as they focused on the point just over his mother's shoulder. His voice trembled slightly, "I knew you'd come. I knew you would."

"Chris," Piper's voice was urgent, her grip tightening on him as he continued to ignore her. She tried again to focus his attention back to her, "_Chris_."

He reached out, his arm outstretched towards…something. "God, I've missed you." "I've missed you so goddamn much." His voice quivered slightly, "It's been so hard. Everything's just been…so goddamn hard without you…" Coughing, he pushed himself forward, attempting to crawl away from his mother and towards where Piper could only guess he believed he saw his fiancé.

Kneeling down in front of his son and blocking his way, Leo put both his hands on Chris' shoulders, effectively stopping him from moving forward, "Chris. Son. Listen to me. She isn't there." Leo choked, "She isn't _there_, Chris."

"Wait! Take me with you…please," Chris struggled weakly in his parents' arms, clearly alarmed. Leo and Piper exchanged baffled looks. "She's going to leave without me! Wait, Bianca! Please!"

"Chris!" Piper wrapped her arms around her son's upper body, trying to keep him still. "Chris! Stop it. You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Let me go! Let me go!" Chris continued to push futilely at the hands trying to restrain him. His eyes were unfocused now, his breathing in short gasps. He began to panic, almost hyperventilating as he suddenly began to plead, "Please. Please. Take me with you…I've been so lonely without you. Don't go. Don't leave me."

Piper clutched her son to her heart all the harder, her heart breaking as she realized just how far Chris was gone. "Please, Chris. Please. Listen to Leo. Listen to me! Please!"

Gasping now, Chris began to say hoarsely. "Please don't leave me here all alone. Please, Bianca. I don't want to be all alone…"

Shushing him like a small child, Piper was joined by Leo who wrapped his arms around both his wife and son. Piper's heart tore at the sound of Chris' plea. Futilely, she tried to reassure him, "Chris. You aren't alone. You'll _never_ be alone."

Finally whatever he might have seen disappeared from his sight and his eyes returned to focus. Chris could only whisper in desperation, "Come back. Come back." All the energy seemed to drain out of him and he fell back into his parents' arms in defeat, his voice dying, "Come back…"

Smoothing his hair back from his damp forehead, Piper could feel the tears running freely down her cheeks. Trying to comfort him, she pressed a hard kiss against her son's damp brow, "Listen to me, Chris. You'll see her again. I promise. Just…not right now."

Chris began to shiver uncontrollably, "I'm so cold…"

"Leo?" Piper's eyes were red-rimmed and watery as she met Leo's worried gaze.

That one look was enough; she could see in her husband's eyes the reflection of everything that she was feeling as well. Unable to answer, Leo shook his head slowly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he kept his arms wrapped tightly around his family, as if desperately trying to channel his strength into them all. _Please, God._ Aloud, she willed her words to be true, "Everything is going to be okay, Chris."

Tired and exhausted, Chris rested his head against his mother's shoulder, his breathing ragged, "Hold me."

Not caring whether he was talking to her or Bianca's ghost, Piper wrapped her arms around her son even tighter. Soothing him, Piper rocked back and forth on the ground, "Forever, baby."

"I'm sorry…"

His voice was so faint, Piper had almost missed the words. She asked softly, "What are you sorry for, peanut?"

"…for…everything," his voice was a whisper. "I tried…I tried to do right…"

Her eyes blazed with emotion as she heard the guilt and self-recrimination in her son's words. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Piper hugged her son to her, "You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. _Nothing_. You hear me, Chris? You did everything right…everything anyone could ever do…everything anyone could ask you to do…"

"So bright…" his voice was filled with a hushed awe. If he heard her, he gave no indication.

Piper clutched him tighter, her knuckles turning white as if she could keep him with her if she physically held onto him, "Chris?"

Silence.

"Chris?" Piper looked down at her son's still form. She whispered his name again, "Chris?"

Peace.

And her heart broke.

Suddenly, she wanted to wail at the fates, curse them for being so unfair – she could feel her fury swirl up, engulfing her in a black rage. Unable to control herself, Piper threw back her head, letting out an anguished scream – her cries cutting across the sky as she screamed until she was hoarse, until her anger transformed into inconsolable grief.

Finally, choking back her hiccupping sobs, Piper buried her face into the crease between her son's neck and shoulder. So focused on her own pain, she was only vaguely aware of Leo sobbing hoarsely and her sisters collapsing against the family of three, their arms embracing the two parents in wordless comfort.

* * *

To be continued…

A/N: You knew that was coming, right?


	19. Chapter 18

A/N: Because it took me so long to update, I figured I had better make it worth your while. This is the final chapter with the epilogue. Thanks to all who read and reviewed – this story would NEVER have been completed without your ongoing support.

Special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: Sky Samuelle, Sabrina, YamiTsubasa, Sparkling Cherries, charmedtomeetyou, Zeria and Charmed Ravenclaw.

**

* * *

The End of All Things **

**Chapter 18**

* * *

_At the Resistance's Headquarters…_

The valkyrie looked down at the body of her friend and mentor, the slight swallowing movement of her throat the only sign of her distress, "That's Kate."

Darryl quickly drew the sheet up over the still body, "Chris found her body not far from Valhalla. The wound in her back clearly indicates she was struck by an arrow – probably a darklighter arrow at that."

Freyna snorted as she retorted hotly, "That means nothing! The mortals use arrows –,"

"But not laced with darklighter poison," Lilah interjected sharply.

Freyna shot the whitelighter a look from beneath her lashes, "You're sure?"

The whitelighter nodded tiredly, "I'm sure. And you know whitelighters cannot lie."

"Did she…" Freyna paused, blinking furiously. "Did she die quickly?" No need to ask about pain – it went without question that darklighter poison was not an easy way to die.

Lilah cleared her throat, offering what little comfort she could, "Yes, she did. But Freyna – I hate to ask you this now, but speed is of the utmost concern. Will you call off your valkyries?"

Freyna gave no indication that she heard the request. Emotions flickered across her face, grief warring with rage, "She was my sister. She deserved better than this. She deserved to die honourably. Not shot in the back by some sneaky, snivelling _coward_…"

Darryl exchanged a silent glance with Lilah, not unaffected by Freyna's grief. He too, was all too familiar with the deaths of loved ones. However, there were more critical matters at hand. He said, not unsympathetically, his voice gruff with emotion, "Freyna – will you call off your people?"

Freyna turned dull eyes towards him. "She was my sister."

Darryl nodded.

Closing her eyes, she released her breath in a slow hiss, "And she would want me to keep my promise to Chris." She opened her eyes to stare steadily into Darryl's, "I will keep my word."

Darryl released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, "Thank you."

Freyna looked away, unable to continue holding Darry's gaze, "And now, you'll have to excuse me. I need to tell the others about our sister." She paused as she began to make her exit, "Oh, and Darryl? Could you let Chris know I'll be a little late for our meeting?"

Darryl's brow furrowed, "Meeting?"

The valkyrie nodded wearily, "He asked me to meet him in San Francisco to discuss the situation. However, given what I know now…"

"Darryl!"

The valkyrie was cut off by as the door suddenly swung open and a frantic woman entered.

"Darryl!" She ignored everyone else in the room, her entire being focused on gaining Darryl's attention. "The control room is going crazy! Something's happening in San Fran! Magical readings are off the chart! We can't even get a telepathic message from any of our contacts. The concentration of magic emitting from the area is causing our communications network to go haywire!"

Darryl didn't even hesitate.

"Lilah – San Fran – now!" He barked, grasping the whitelighter's hand. In the background, he could hear Freyna telling Lilah she was coming with them. He ignored them, yelling at the shell shocked messenger as the blues orbs swirled up to transport him away, "Get back to the control room and wait for my update!"

* * *

_San Francisco…_

Michael's rough voice broke through his consciousness, "You okay, big brother?"

Groaning, D.J. opened his mouth to respond but instead ended up curling onto his side as he tried to hack out one of his lungs. In lieu of a response, he gave his brother a 'thumbs up' sign before weakly opening his eyelids.

Michael was crouching over him in concern but as soon as D.J. opened his eyes, he saw his brother visibly relax. Michael patted him on the shoulder none too gently, unbeknownst that he was setting off flashes of pain through his brother's body. "Stay here. I'm going to check on Duncan."

Shooting his brother a glare, he merely nodded. _As if I could move even if I wanted._ God damn it. Everything _hurt_. Swallowing, D.J. began a mental inventory of his injuries – as he assessed his damage, he could hear in the distance the distinct sounds of orbing.

"D.J.!"

He blinked in wonderment as his father's face was suddenly in his vision. Before he could respond, his father was thrust aside to be replaced by the very worried face of their friend Lilah. She smiled at him encouragingly, her mouth whispering words of comfort through his haze of pain as the feeling of a gentle, golden warmth spread through his body.

Michael's voice sounded in the distance, urgency in his tone, "Lilah! I need you here!"

Helping D.J. into a sitting position, she nodded over her shoulder at Darryl, "I'm going to check on Duncan. Be right back." She looked sternly at D.J., "Don't move."

And then she was gone.

"You okay, buddy?" Darryl's forehead was creased with worry.

D.J. coughed once, flexing his muscles and testing his injuries. The dull twinge of pain that responded back was nothing compared to the intense pain he had felt just moments earlier. _Thank God for whitelighter healing_, D.J. thought. Aloud, "Yeah. I think so. What about Michael? He okay?"

Darryl glanced over his shoulder, watching his youngest kneel next to Lilah nearby. The pair were hovering over the prone body of who Darryl could only guess was Duncan. He swallowed, convulsively. _Was Duncan too far gone?_ Darryl knew there was only so much healing a whitelighter could do. He gave himself a small shake and clamped down on the negative thought and diverted his attention back to D.J. "Seems so. Definitely in better shape than you. I'll feel better when he tells me though." He looked down at his son, "You want to fill me in?"

Before D.J. could respond, his brother stumbled over. The two brothers exchanged a look, telling D.J. everything he needed to know. "Duncan's okay, then?"

Michael nodded wearily, sinking to his knees next to his family, "Had to give him CPR for a bit, but luckily Lilah got here in time. That guy has nine lives." He glanced back over his shoulder, "Lilah's just finishing with him now."

"What about…" D.J. swallowed nervously. He had deliberately averted his gaze from Chris' family. "Was Leo able to…"

Michael shook his head, his breath catching slightly, "I don't know. I don't _think_ so. I think…I think Chris is…_gone_."

D.J. flinched, his eyes closing in resignation. _God damn it all_, he thought bitterly, _why is there always a price to pay?_

"What happened?" Darryl demanded, interrupting the brief silence.

"I'm not sure…" D.J. mulled it over in his head. "One second we were running towards Zankou, trying to distract him so that Chris could get his chance…"

"I remember pushing you out of the way of a fireball…" Michael continued, his voice distracted as he wiped at the soot on his face.

D.J. nodded, picking up the story thread again, "And then Chris had Excalibur in his hand…"

"And the next, there was this brilliant white light," Michael shrugged. "And then I woke up with a hell of a headache, checked on D.J. and Duncan and you guys arrived."

"White light?" Darryl's voice was puzzled.

"It was Chris." A shadow fell over the Morris' family as Duncan towered over them before collapsing in exhaustion next to them. "That white light was the backlash of power of destroying Zankou with Excalibur." He shrugged off Darryl's concerned look, "I'm good. Lilah healed me right up. She's checking on…the Halliwells."

"Backlash of power?" D.J. shook his head, trying to fit the pieces together, his forehead still throbbing in pain. He tried to wrap his mind around what had happened…_and Chris was gone?_

"A demon that powerful – there was no way Chris could have destroyed him without Excalibur. And when two such powerful magics collide, you literally have the magical equivalency of an atomic bomb." Duncan explained, his eyes trained on the Halliwell family weeping less than 200 feet from them.

"Then why aren't we dust? Not that I'm complaining," Michael injected hurriedly.

Duncan smiled grimly, "Because at the last moment, Chris threw all his energy into a shield to contain the devastation." He jerked his head in the general direction of the crater which they all just laid outside of. "If we had been within a hundred feet…"

As D.J. absorbed the information, there were so many questions he wanted to ask. Was that all part of Chris' plan? Had he known about the potential backlash? Had he died protecting his friends? D.J. swallowed convulsively, his throat refusing to work, managing only to croak out, "Did he…did he know?"

As if he knew exactly all the other questions behind this one that D.J. was asking, Duncan seemed to weigh D.J.'s question before answering, "I…I don't know."

"God," Michael blasphemed, dragging his hand down his face wearily. "What do we do now?"

Darryl stared grimly at the scene unfolding. Anger and grief battled with denial and despair. If only they had been able to prove the darklighter poison earlier. If only they had been able to convince Freyna for just a little more time…maybe none of this would have been necessary.

But it was done. They'd had no choice but to go at the issue two ways. Chris had set out to confront Zankou because they weren't sure if they'd be able to convince the valkyries otherwise in time. And besides, as Chris had pointed out rather dryly to Darryl before he had left, it wasn't as if they didn't _know_ Zankou was evil and they would have to deal with him eventually.

Eventually.

But not now. Not when they weren't ready.

Darryl shook himself slightly. What did it matter, now? Whatever else had happened, Chris had stopped Zankou. The valkyries had agreed to abandon their misdirected thirst for vengeance. And mortals were still distrustful of all things magical, but alive.

They were back at square one. With nothing to show for it except a dead friend.

And as Darryl looked around, something caught his eye. Sheridan, who must have arrived on the scene shortly after they did, was standing side by side with Freyna. Behind them, humans and valkyries alike stood intermingled, their entire attention on the small group huddled around the still smoking crater. Grief and sympathy showed visibly on all faces; for once, everyone united.

_Maybe there is hope after all_, Darryl thought.

He looked back at his son, who was still waiting for a response, "We do what Chris wanted us to do."

And he could almost hear Chris agree.

* * *

How long they sat there, Piper didn't know. 

What she did know was when she finally raised her head the sky was no longer pinkening, but a deep purple as the evening chased the setting sun from the sky.

She gazed lovingly down at her youngest son's face. His eyes shut, his expression serene, he looked like he was sleeping peacefully.

God, how she wished he was asleep!

It was only the stillness of his chest – where breath should have made it rise and fall in time with the hum of life – that made her acknowledge that this was a sleep he would never awake from.

A clearing of the throat made the Halliwells turn in the direction of the sound as Lilah slowly approached the group.

Lilah's face was incredibly sad. "I'm sorry. So very sorry. But you need to leave. Back to your own time. Now."

"My son…," Piper's voice was creaky with disuse.

"I…we…will take of him," Lilah murmured, her gaze focused on her friend's still form. "I promise. But you must go. Now." Sinking to her knees, she carefully brushed her head over Chris' forehead, whispering sadly, "Oh Chris…where are you?"

Piper felt her throat clench at Lilah's whisper, the whitelighter's question resonating through her as her eyes still studied Chris' peaceful face. _My baby…I wish you were still here._ A shadow fell over her, causing Piper to raise her tear streaked face to meet Darryl's concerned gaze.

Darryl's voice sounded insistent, "Piper?"

She shook her head, "He's gone, Darryl. He's not here." She felt Darryl kneel next to her and she turned her pain filled gaze towards his direction, "What are we going to do without him?"

Darryl's hand reached for hers, his fingers lacing through Piper's before giving it a strong squeeze, "What he wanted us to do, Piper. To continue forward." Darryl glanced down at Chris' serene expression. "And not look back."

Darryl's matter of fact voice made Piper want to scream. She wanted to beat her fists against Darryl's chest and demand why it had come to this. Opening her mouth to protest, Darryl cut Piper off, "Lilah's right, Piper. There's nothing more you can do here." He paused, before continuing, "But there's something you can still do."

Paige stood up, wincing at the pain in her knees from kneeling in the dirt for too long. Assisting Phoebe up, she nodded, "We can still change the past."

"For Chris," Darryl nodded. "For all our sake's."

Feeling her sisters back away slightly, Piper silently looked into Leo's watery gaze. Elder or not, he looked like he had instantly aged ten years. Seeing her pain reflected back, her right arm reached out for her husband and she laced her fingers through his. Together, they gently laid their son flat against the earth.

Leo studied his son's face for a long time before leaning down to press a soft kiss against Chris' forehead, "I won't let this happen, Chris. I promise. I won't let it happen."

Standing, he held his hand out to Piper to help her up. Pressing a soft kiss to her hand, she touched her hand to Chris' lips. Her heart heavy, Piper swallowed, her voice breaking, "Don't worry, peanut. Everything will be okay." Placing her hand in Leo's, she let him pull her up, all her strength gone.

Staring at Chris, Phoebe asked Darryl, "What will…how will you…"

"We'll take care of him, Phoebe," Darryl's tone was filled with grief. "We'll make sure he'll have the peace he craved so desperately in life."

Sniffling, the sister could only nod uselessly. Feeling Paige's arms wrap around her in a comforting hug, "He's going to live a long, long life. He's going to be happy, Darryl. I swear it."

Darryl nodded solemnly, his eyes grave, the slight break in his voice betraying just how affected he was by Chris' death. "I know he will."

In Lilah's peripheral vision, she could see Darryl speaking with the Halliwells. But all her attention and focus was on her friend.

The darkness in her heart threatened to overwhelm her. Anger, resentment and bitterness were so foreign to her that it took her a moment to recognize the emotions for what they were. For an instant, the negative emotions coloured her thoughts, the complete antithesis of everything a whitelighter should represent, _It's not fair._ She'd lost many friends over the years. But rarely one so young as Chris. It was these deaths that were the worst for her to accept – young men and women who had their whole life in front of them. Shining futures and brilliant dreams all shattered in an instant. _Why_?

Biting her lip, she struggled to hold onto her emotions. The family was barely holding it together, and Lilah felt guilty for her own grief. It seemed almost selfish to want to indulge in her tirade against the unfairness of the world when Chris' loved ones, Chris' _family_, were experiencing pain beyond belief. They had just lost a son…a nephew.

But she had lost a friend.

She sensed another presence next to her and looking to her right, she was surprised to see Jenny Sheridan. Lilah's gaze swept upwards and she realized as she and the others were kneeling in the dirt, grieving over Chris' death, the people from the city had emerged, likely drawn by the climatic explosion that had rocked the surrounding area.

Sheridan's eyes were suspiciously dry, her shaky voice the only facet of her demeanour betraying her true feelings, "Is he…did he…?"

"We need to move him out of the no orbing zone," Lilah said dully. "I need to take him back to base," Lilah started to babble. "I can't orb him here. I can't."

Hearing Lilah's words, Darryl left the Halliwell family to approach his friend. Placing a gentle hand on Lilah's shoulder, "I know." Nodding at his sons, the unspoken instruction clear to the Morris', D.J. and Michael slowly shuffled forward. Gently, D.J. moved to take Chris' shoulders while Michael moved to lift Chris' feet. About to lift him from the ground, Sheridan held her hand up to stop them.

"Stop," Sheridan nodded in the direction of her fellow citizens. A large crowd had gathered outside the city walls, the news of Chris' death spreading swiftly through San Francisco like a brush fire. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears as they met Darryl's, before glancing over her shoulder, "Someone brought a stretcher…"

For the wounded but not the dead. How ironic.

Lifting him carefully, the Morris brothers' placed their friend gently into the stretcher. Wiping away her tears, Lilah moved forward to fold Chris' hands across his chest before gently pressing a soft kiss against his forehead.

Sheridan averted her gaze, her eyes touching on Chris' hands briefly. Swallowing convulsively, she nodded at the Morris' as she positioned herself to one side of the makeshift carrier, ready to shoulder the burden, "I'll help you."

Gripping the handles, they lifted him as one and as they slowly began their trek, they were brought to a stop by the valkyrie blocking their way. Without a word, Freyna moved to the side, gripping the other side of the stretcher. As if by unspoken agreement, the four silently bore their precious burden to the city limits.

As they passed humans and valkyries alike, all bowed their heads respectfully. Whatever personal feelings they may have had towards each other, they were united in their grief for the death of the young leader of the Resistance.

They may not have agreed with him, they may not have liked him even, but they respected him. They respected him for what he had done, what he continued to do until his death and what he represented. A chance for humans and magical beings to put aside their differences and work together for the common good.

His death was an impact that would be felt for years to come.

No one was thinking of tomorrow – of whether the valkyrie or human currently standing next to them would be an enemy. Today, right now, this moment – they were united in their grief for some who called friend, others had called leader and some, simply, 'Chris.'

Trailing behind the procession, Lilah swiped at her eyes. A handkerchief magically appeared in front of her eyes, which she gratefully grasped. As they approached the city limits, she looked up at her friend, her voice husky with unshed tears, "Darryl…"

His eyes were dark with sorrow, "I don't know, Lilah."

The crowd remained a respectful distance away as the makeshift pallbearers lowered their friend to the ground once more. Darryl nodded at Lilah, who sank to her knees next to the young man who had been her friend for so long. Swiping at the tears in her eyes, she drew in a shaky breath and placing her hands on his arm, she orbed them both away.

* * *

_At the Halliwell Manor, present time…_

"I don't understand," Piper said dully, as her husband and sisters materialized into the attic.

Leo glanced over at his wife, "I don't understand, either."

"It's not fair, Leo. It's not fair!" Piper's eyes blazed with anger and unshed tears. She suddenly turned on her husband, beating her fists against his chest as she struggled with her overwrought emotions. "How can this be happening? How can this be happening to our kids?"

Gently grasping his wife's fists, he pulled her close, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. "I don't know, Piper. I don't know. But I swear, we won't let it happen I won't let it happen." He heard her sniffle, and then the reluctant nodding against his chest.

Paige wiped at her eyes angrily, trying to focus on helping her nephew now. "So how are we going to get rid of what is, essentially, an indestructible sword?"

As the quartet looked at each other blankly, Phoebe suddenly snapped her fingers together, "Leo – what did you do with the genie bottle?"

Leo blinked. "Well, I, uh –,"

"No, no!" Phoebe said hurriedly. "Don't tell us. But it's safe, right? No one will ever find it, right?"

Leo blinked again, still confused (as usual) by Phoebe's whirlwind thought process, "Uh, yeah."

"So then you take the sword and hide it in the same place!" Phoebe smiled triumphantly, looking at her sisters for their approval.

Paige nodded, "That does sound like a good idea."

Piper stepped back to look up at her husband, "What do you think?"

Leo thought about all that had happened in the last few days. How one event had literally set off a chain reaction, the links stretching into the future and still reverberating from the choices they made today. He thought about how tired and sick his son had been and yet Chris had never given up. He thought about how Chris had continued to fight for the promise of a better tomorrow but knowing that it would never be a guarantee. He thought about the promise he had given his son, and he knew…he _knew_…A slow smile stretched across his face, "I think…that it's a very good idea."

**

* * *

Epilogue **_

* * *

Twenty two years later…_

"Hello? Anyone here?"

"Wy?" A voice answered. "That you? I thought you had a hot date with that blonde…" The sentence broke off as the voice's owner came around the corner, his eyes widening comically as he took in the sight of his older brother. "What the hell happened to you?"

Wyatt Halliwell, the eldest son of Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt, renowned for his blond good looks, easy going nature and general clean cut appearance, was covered from head to foot in green goo. Giving his younger brother an evil glare, he grumbled, "Don't you dare laugh."

Recovering from his initial shock, Chris blinked in surprise before he could feel the corners of his mouth twitch involuntarily. The indignant look his brother shot him only served to add to his merriment and unable to help himself, Chris burst out laughing. "Oh my God…Wy…you…you…look…" Doubled over in laughter, Chris tried to form a coherent sentence, "What _is_ that stuff?"

"Demon guts, I'd guess," Wyatt continued to give his little brother the evil eye. "Except I can't seem to get it off me." Doing his best to ignore his brother's laughter, Wyatt questioned him "I tried washing up at home but all I did was clog the drain. I was hoping Mom and Dad would be here?"

Chris shook his head, "Don't know. They weren't here when I orbed in. I just stopped by to pick up a couple of things." He had recently moved out of their childhood home and Chris was finding all sorts of things he had forgotten to pack. Wyatt had moved out first over Piper's vehement protests, telling his mother it wasn't _healthy_ for a grown son to live with his parents. Chris, already use to being on his own and home only for school breaks anyways, had recently announced he was moving in with his brother. Although his mother had grumbled and complained, Chris knew she had been relieved that at least the two brothers were living together. Chris fought to keep the grin off his face, "Think you can wait that long?"

Narrowing his eyes at his baby brother's taunt, Wyatt replied, "Why don't you stop being an ass and give me hand, please?"

Heroically swallowing his mirth, Chris closed his eyes and muttered his Aunt Paige's favourite spell, "May the object …"

"I didn't mean use magic!" Wyatt exclaimed exasperatedly as he was bathed in a flash of golden light before it disappeared. Completely clean, Wyatt glared at his brother as he lectured his brother, "Would it have killed you to hand me a bloody towel? What about personal gain?"

Chris grinned good-naturedly, not one iota perturbed by Wyatt's sermon, "That wasn't personal gain. It was for you!" As Wyatt opened his mouth to argue, Chris quickly interjected, "Besides, there's no way I was getting close enough to you to hand you a towel. Who knows where that stuff has been and what I could have caught from it!"

Sighing loudly to clearly indicate his displeasure and exasperation, Wyatt pointed out with a pained expression on his face, "You – are – an – idiot."

"Hey! You - ," Chris cut his retort short as two demons suddenly shimmered in, his eyes widening as he shouted a warning, "Behind you!"

Wyatt whipped around at his brother's warning and acting on instinct, threw his hands up to blow the two demons up.

_BANG! _

"Shit!" Wyatt said disgustedly, looking down at himself. "Great, just fucking great." Once again, the twice-blessed witch was covered with green goo, dripping slime all over his mother's living room floor. "I am _so_ going to be late for my date."

One look at his brother's revolted expression and Chris doubled over with laughter. As he finally regained some semblance of control, he glanced up to look at his older brother. The resigned, annoyed look on his brother's face, combined with the slow downwards ooze of the green goo along the side of Wyatt's face set Chris off again. Every time Chris thought he had himself under control, one look at his brother's state of affairs merely served to send Chris off into another fit of laughter.

"It's not funny, Chris!" Wyatt said irritably, holding one arm out to inspect the damage. He shook his arm slightly, trying to get rid of some of the icky goop, watching it land with a 'plop' on the living room floor, "Mom is going to kill me!"

The thought of their mother arriving home to see her eldest son drenched with green slime and dripping all over the living room carpet served to only further increase Chris' amusement to the point where tears began to stream from his eyes. He gasped out between his choking laughter as he met Wyatt's eyes, "Only…only if…only if it stains…"

"Very funny," Wyatt glared at his brother sourly. "Haha. You're a regular comedian. Are you going to help me or what?"

About to reassure his big brother he would do just that (after he got himself under control, of course!), the sound of the door opening made Chris snap his mouth close.

"Wyatt!"

Her eyes wide and her voice was full of shock, Piper Halliwell took in the sight of her eldest son covered in copious amounts of what she could only surmise was green slime. She stared at her son, her mouth opening and closing in silent amazement before finally finding her voice and asking rather hoarsely, "What happened?"

"Demon attack – and apparently the kind that leaves demon guts behind," Chris piped up before Wyatt could explain. Giving his brother a sly look, Chris said innocently, "Boy, I hope that stuff doesn't stain the carpet."

"Oh! Oh!" Piper began to hyperventilate. "The carpet! The carpet!"

Shooting his little brother a dirty look, Wyatt said contritely, "Sorry, Mom."

Making shooing motions with her hands, she wrinkled her nose as she neared her eldest, "Go! Go! To the kitchen, for heaven's sakes. Haven't I at least taught you if you're covered with demon guts to clean up in the kitchen?"

Giving his brother one last evil glare, Wyatt sighed resignedly and moved towards the kitchen, leaving little puddles of green goo behind.

Clucking her tongue, Piper made to follow Wyatt before abruptly narrowing her eyes at her youngest, whose grin was a mile wide. Pointing her finger at him, "And you, young man. You clean up in here."

His mouth dropping open in surprise, "But Mom –,"

"No buts, mister! Don't think I don't know you were laughing at your brother," Piper cut her son off sharply. "Clean! Now!" Stomping off towards the kitchen, she paused, turning around slowly, "And no magic!"

"But –,"

"Chris!"

Chris emitted a long suffering sigh before saying craftily, "All right. No magic. Even if it _does_ stain…"

Piper rolled her eyes before disappearing into the kitchen. "Fine. A little bit of magic, then. But just a little!"

"Yes, Mom." Chris said smartly, his voice completely innocent. With his mother and brother both in the other room, Chris put the room to rights quickly. Releasing the spell, he smiled in satisfaction as the room returned to its normal appearance and any trace of the green goo was now long gone. Pleased with himself, Chris made his way to the kitchen to see his mother dab ineffectively at the green goo on his older brother's face. "Need help?"

As Wyatt looked pathetically at his mother, she sighed, "All right. I guess because it's demon guts, you should be able to use magic." With a quick wave of her hand, Piper repeated the same spell Chris had used earlier.

"Thank God! I thought that stuff would NEVER come off," Wyatt said gratefully.

Chris smirked, "I think I can still see some in your hair."

Wyatt's eyes widened anxiously as he swore, "What! No way!" And before either his mother or little brother could stop him, he disappeared into a swirl of blue orbs. A thud from upstairs told the two in the kitchen that Wyatt was now in the upstairs bathroom, all in likelihood staring in the mirror. A pause and then a yell, "Chris! I'm going to _kill_ you!"

Piper eyed her youngest with mock displeasure, "You shouldn't tease your brother like that."

Chris shrugged, "If I don't, who will?" As his mother rolled her eyes again, Chris grinned, "Everyone knows that's what little brothers are for."

"You mean little twerps," Wyatt retorted, as he reappeared in the kitchen behind his brother. Grabbing his brother in a headlock, he began to knuckle Chris' head. "Brat!"

"Hey!" Chris protested, taken by surprise. As he tried to wrest free, "Get off me! Mom!"

"Boys!" Piper said sharply, though her tone barely disguised her amusement. "You're adults, not kids anymore. Behave like it."

Letting his brother go, Wyatt gave Chris a slight playful shove, cuffing him lightly on the back of the head, "Twerp."

"Jackass," Chris shot back, rubbing his head as he rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Chris!" Pausing from putting away the groceries, his mother's disapproving frown was for real this time as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Language!"

"Sorry, Mom," Chris replied automatically, resisting the urge to revert to his childhood years and stick his tongue out at his now grinning brother. He silently mouthed an insult to his brother, _Asshole_.

Wyatt's eyebrow merely rose as he mouthed back, _Bitch_.

"Aren't you suppose to be studying? I thought finals start Monday?" Piper suddenly directed her penetrating gaze at Chris and forcing him to swallow his ready and equally profane retort to his brother.

Chris threw up his palms in innocence, "I needed a break. All that studying was driving me crazy so I thought I'd come by and see you and Dad. Where _is_ Dad, anyways?"

"Right here," Leo smiled at his two sons, his arms full of groceries as he suddenly appeared in the kitchen. "Want to give me a hand?"

Each of the brothers took a bag each, unloading the contents on the kitchen counter as their mother began to put things away. Chris rummaged through the last sack of groceries, "Hey, did you get any Cheerios? Wy ate the last of the cereal this morning and I haven't had any breakfast yet."

Slapping lightly at his hand, Piper waved her son away from the grocery sack, "Check the cupboard."

Spying the exact yellow cereal box he was looking for, Chris let out a small whoop before pouncing on the breakfast food. Finding a bowl and settling down to pour some of the cereal into it, he caught the amused expression of his father. Chris grinned, pointing his spoon emphatically at his father, "Hey! Maybe if you were living with the human trash compactor, you'd be pretty happy to have a bowl of Cheerios too."

Leo gave his youngest son a pointed look, "I did. And so did you. For the first twenty odd years of his life. You knew what you were getting into when you moved in with the bottomless pit. You've got no excuse."

Chris inclined his head respectfully to his father, a playful smirk on his lips, "Touché."

"Hey!" Wyatt protested, grabbing a spoon out of the nearby kitchen drawer to quickly spoon some of the soggy material into his mouth. His mouth full, the words came out slightly garbled, "I resent that!"

"Wy, you can't resent something that is pure fact," Chris rolled his eyes towards his brother, swiftly bringing his own spoon up to whack Wyatt's away. "Get your own damn cereal."

Ignoring his brother's attempt to defend his cereal bowl, Wyatt aimed his spoon this way and that, trying to deflect Chris' spoon. "Hey, sharing is caring. Besides, I just want a bite."

Snatching the bowl off the counter, Chris began to back away from his brother as he looked plaintively at his mother, "See what I have to put up with?"

"Well, you could always move home," Leo replied dryly even as Piper's face brightened up at the prospect.

"That's right, sweetie," Piper reached over to pinch her youngest's cheek. "No cereal-snatching monster here."

"Errr, no thanks," Chris sidestepped his mother before she tried to pinch his other cheek. "But if I start to waste away, you'll know why."

"I'm a little offended that you didn't ask me to move back home," Wyatt told his parents jokingly as he went to pour his own bowl of cereal. Putting the milk back into the fridge, he tossed casually over his shoulder, "What's up with that?"

"Frankly son, you were eating us out of home and hearth," Leo said gently, his expression full of humour. "Your mother and I were thankful you decided to move out and started paying for your own groceries."

"Speak for yourself," Piper shot at her husband, an amused look on her face. "Any time you want to move back in, you know there'll be a room waiting for you," she cooed, this time reaching over to pinch Wyatt's cheek.

"Thanks, Mom," Wyatt said with a panicked expression on his face, the idea of giving up his hard fought independence clearly alarming. He tactfully ignored Chris' snort, "But, uh…I think we're good."

"So what are you boys up to today?" Leo asked, watching his two sons munch their way through Cheerios. "Just hanging with the folks?"

"Wy's got a date with that teacher from Magic School," Chris said sing-songingly, pretending not to notice the annoyed glare Wyatt shot him. "That all important third date, eh?" Chris grinned at the scowl Wyatt threw him.

Piper frowned, "What's her name again? Britney? No, that's not it. Beverly?"

"Brandi," Leo replied patiently, glancing over at Wyatt for confirmation.

Nodding his head, Wyatt swallowed the last of his cereal and dumped the bowl in the sink, "Like the liquor, but with an 'i'."

"What's that?" Piper frowned.

"Like the stripper," it rolled off his tongue before he could stop himself. Chris ducked as Wyatt threw his spoon at him and his mother clucked her tongue at him disapprovingly.

"Christopher," his father said, sighing.

"Oh, come on," Chris rolled his eyes at his family. "Honestly, who names their child _Brandi_, with an 'i'? That's got to be a stripper name." As his family stared at him in exasperation, Chris blinked innocently, "What? What?"

Piper could only shake her head at him as she tried to frown sternly at her youngest, the twitching corners of her mouth betraying her, "You are a horrible child. How you learned this inappropriate sense of humour is beyond me."

Chris grinned cheekily, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he swiftly responded, "Aunt Paige."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Leo shook his head in mock sadness at his son.

"At least I date _women_," Wyatt retorted, emphasizing the last word. "Unlike some wimpy momma's boy who seems to only attract girls who want to take care of him."

Chris looked affronted. "Hey!"

"He's got a point there, son," Leo pointed out, backing his eldest up. "That last girl wanted to take care of you 24/7. Your mother and I were seriously getting annoyed."

Chris blushed at the mention of his last girlfriend. At first, it had been flattering for him to have someone outside of his family so intent on caring for him. When he'd come down with the flu, she had brought him homemade soup and cleaned his dorm room. However, the novelty had quickly worn off as she began to follow him everywhere, insisting on hanging out all the time. He'd finally had to put his foot down when she had tried to separate him from his family. Family came first and she was quickly shown the door. "Take his side, why don't you," Chris muttered into his bowl of cereal.

Leo reached over to pat Chris on the arm consolingly, "You really think I was going to let you get away with that crack about one of my teachers?" Leo's eyebrow arched as he referred to his position as headmaster at Magic School.

Wyatt grinned, "Give it up while you can, lil' bro."

Chris rolled his eyes, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Looking down at his watch, Wyatt's eyes widened, "Shit! I'm suppose to pick Brandi up in fifteen minutes. I've got to go home and get dressed."

"Wyatt! Language!" Piper yelled at the dissolving orbs. Realizing she was shouting at thin air, Piper looked disgusted, "Damn it."

Choking on his laughter, Chris kept his head down as his mother directed her gaze at him. She wrinkled her nose at him as he smiled innocently and asked, "What?"

Leo laughed. It was times like these that he treasured. Family 'squabbles' that revealed their affection for each other. He couldn't be prouder of both his sons – Wyatt working as a cop, surrounded by people like Darryl and Henry who he could trust to support him; and Chris, finished one degree and still in school pursuing his post graduate studies. "So what are your plans?"

Chris shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his ankles, "Thought I'd hang out here for awhile, if that's okay. Spend some quality time with the old folks. I was sort of hoping for an uneventful Saturday to regroup before I go back to studying."

"Less of the 'old', please," Piper frowned playfully, secretly pleased her adult son still wanted to hang out with his parents.

Leo patted his son on his shoulder, gesturing for Chris to follow him, "Come on, sport. I've got some shelves I've been hanging in the attic that have got your name on it."

"Awwww, Dad," Chris reluctantly dragged himself after his father. "When I said 'hang', I meant like, watch tv or something. Not actually 'hang' something, like shelves."

"Well then you shouldn't have come here," Leo ribbed his son gently, placing his hand on Chris' shoulder to steer him towards the staircase.

"Why is it every time I say 'quality time' you interpret it to mean 'repair things'?" Chris grumbled good-naturedly, his voice drifting down the stairs into the kitchen where Piper was still puttering about.

She smiled, not able to hear Leo's response. The tread of footsteps on the stairs faded away as the two disappeared upstairs.

Could life get any better than this?

Somehow, she didn't think so.

The End

* * *

**Author's Final Notes**

With the destruction of Excalibur, I think this nicely ends the story arc. There will be no sequels to _The End of All Things_. Regarding the ever-increasing body count: This was always my intention as evidenced by the title of the story. I wanted to prevent myself from creating a sequel to a sequel so I figured the best way was to kill off as many of the _No Fate_ characters as I could (and the Charmed universe would allow me) in _TEOAT_.

Originally, I was planning to write a chapter around Leo getting rid of Excalibur (sort of a Lord of the Rings inspired thing) but decided in the interest of completing the story to leave it to your imagination. Also, I know I sort of left that id cards issue hanging – that was partially intentional as there was never going to be a resolution to that issue. All in all, even with some glaring errors and plot holes, I think _TEOAT_ came out better than _Redundant_. Or at least, I hope it did for you.

I've had a couple of requests to pick up where _Providence_ left off. Frankly, this looks unlikely for a couple of reasons. Mostly though, real life has taken over all my free time and resulted in erratic updating as evidenced by _TEOAT_ – I would be hard pressed to say this would change for any future writing endeavour. What I may try to do instead is finish the story first before posting to cut down on the lag time but who knows when, if at all, that would be. However, if someone else would like to play in the "No Fate" universe, I'd be more than happy to see this, provided you mention the linkage appropriately in your story.

Many, many, MANY thanks to all my reviewers – you cannot guess the number of times I was ready to 'throw in the towel' on my writer's block and give up with this story. It was only the knowledge that there were people who enjoyed the story that made it worthwhile for me to continue writing.

Adieu,

J.

PS

If I do decide to do a sequel to _Providence_, I'd like to get a beta reader going forward. If you're interested, could you leave me a note or pm me? It may not be for awhile (if at all), but if I do, I'd like the option of contacting someone to see if they're interested. Thanks!


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